


fixed grief and weary hearts, never play their intended parts

by Pomegranate Pains (garnetanemones)



Series: follow the spring to the uprising [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Sokka, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Hurt/Comfort, Language of Flowers, Multi, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Soulflowers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Toph Being Awesome, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Has Issues, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garnetanemones/pseuds/Pomegranate%20Pains
Summary: Soulflowers are the beauty in pain, the soulmark left from a scar on your soulmate. Its a gift from the spirits and its supposedly meant to pair you with your perfect half. Sokka's calling bullshit though and Zuko would be inclined to agree. Soulmates aren't supposed to be fighting on opposite sides of a war and really shouldn't try to kill each others' friends. Well, Sokka's friends. Zuko is too awkward and honor-driven to actually have any.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Brief Jet/Zuko, Hakoda & his kids, Hakoda/Kya (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Sokka & Bato, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Suki, Ursa & Zuko (Avatar), brief Yue/Sokka
Series: follow the spring to the uprising [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788871
Comments: 724
Kudos: 1992





	1. hollow pains and prying eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I saw this prompt list for soulmate aus and my brain when muahahaha when it saw #35. You get flowered tattoos wherever your soulmate receives a scar. Of course, who do you think of when you think of scars? Zuko, the poor gay baby. Hence this whole thing. I probably shouldn't be uploading this just yet since I don't have much written but oh wells. Updates every week or every other week. Just... whenever? We'll wait patiently together. 
> 
> Here's the link to that prompt list. It's actually so cool and I wouldn't be surprised if I use it again.  
> https://thepokyone.tumblr.com/post/167243919772/soulmate-au-list

There are long, reaching petals that cascade down his father’s forearm. They’re the tenderest of pinks, each bloom clustered together to stop right above the top of his hand. They’re soft but vibrant and looking at it, no one fits such a flower but his mother. 

It’s her _soulflower_ , marked across his father’s body where her own scars lie, and it’s those particular clusters are relatively new. Sokka had been with Hakoda when it happened, distantly recalls the ache of worry that had shot through his dad as he cradled his own arm. He’d been beyond terrified and they knew the accident would scar her before she did, it’s tell decorating Hakoda’s right arm immediately rather than taking its time to settle in. 

Kya has her own clusters of flowers, as simple and sturdy as her husband. She was quite proud of the blue blooms that danced across her shoulder blades and wore them with just as much pride as he. She even went the extra mile, often saving up to have them stitched into her clothes in elegant patterns. 

Gifts from Tui and La, Gran-Gran had taught him. The one chance of true love for both you and your soulmate. He didn’t quite know what to think. He had the flowers, delicate tiny white blooms, and while he failed to remember the first cluster, he didn’t have them when he was born. Not like Katara, who already had tall yellow blooms that curled together.

She had a scattering of yellow petals on her palm and she’d taken to caressing it every few minutes. Sokka didn’t get the obsession, he didn’t stare longingly at his own soulflowers, and neither did any _normal_ person he knew. It wasn’t even new! Although, she had never _had_ a new soulflower grow across her skin. Perhaps she was watching it, making sure the petals didn’t wilt like Gran-Gran’s. 

At the end of the day though, he chalked it up to Katara being a girl. A whiny, bossy one at that. She was always getting him into trouble and her weird little magic trick accidents had left at least a few flowers for his own soulmate. 

He liked to think that his own flowers were fierce. Ooh! Maybe even poisonous. How cool would that be?! They had to be the coolest, most dangerous flowers. His soulmate was lucky. He had tiny, girly flowers and just from the look of them, he knew whoever his destined love was, would get along with his sister. 

Said sister gained his attention with a shock of laughter. She was getting the chief of their tribe, their father, to carry her on his back, leading him like an ostrich horse. He sighed and vowed to keep his little sister far, far away from his soulmate. 

* * *

Sokka wonders, mainly when he can’t sleep and is too tired to stop himself, what his soulmate is like. He has nothing but the white blooms on his body to go off of and even then, he’s not entirely sure what to make of the soulmarks. There’s not that many of them and the placement is odd for scars. He’s spent more time than he’d like to admit marveling at them, theorizing a number of events until he made himself nauseous. 

Gran-Gran thought they’d be patient and delicate. His mom thought they’d be strong and resilient. His dad said all that mattered was if they were kind. 

It painted someone too good to be true in his head. Possibly a beautiful girl with a beautiful smile. She’d be kind and patient and she’d like boomerangs like him. 

Or maybe a boy. Bato’s soulmate was a boy and so were a few others’. Maybe his would be too. Maybe the boy would be brave and resilient and would like to spar. That would be fun! 

Katara always ended up freezing him, usually to the ground, when he made them spar. Half the time he’s pretty sure it’s not even an accident and it’s just a way for her to get out of it. The other kids in the tribe were too little and the warriors never let him join them. 

He decided then that his soulmate had to like all the things he did or he’d throw away the entire _idea_ of soulmates. He did hope he’d meet them though. At least once. He imagined it was lonely to wait for someone you didn’t even know for years and years. Like Gran-Gran’s friend, who still didn’t know the owner of the green flower. 

And more than anything, he hoped the flowers never wilted. He didn’t want them to wilt after they met but especially not before. How else was he supposed to know if his soulmate was a cool person?

_(They were. They had to be. They were_ his _soulmate.)_

* * *

Once vibrant, lively petals had wilted and faded against his father’s skin. A few others’ in the village had done the same. It left Sokka reeling at just how much destruction the Fire Nation was capable of in the span of only a few hours. 

They’d left blood-stained snow, burning houses, grieving widows, and parentless children in their wake. They took his mother away from him. They took his father’s soulmate and his sister’s smile. All there seemed to be now was death, pain, and black snow. 

Bato patted his shoulder, careful of Sokka’s heavily bandaged forearm. He was just another number in dozens of casualties from today’s attack. He hoped he hadn’t worried his soulmate, hoped those petals would wait some and he hadn’t hurt his supposed other half. If he had, well, it was another fault of the Fire Nation. 

“You did good today,” Bato told him, trying his best to give a genuine smile. Sokka didn’t blame him for his struggle. He doubted there would be any smiling in the village for quite some time. 

Still, he was brought up with manners and respect. “Thanks.” It was empty but it wasn't more silence. Like with Bato’s smile, it was the effort that counted. 

“Look, Sokka,” He began with a heavy sigh. “Your dad’s gonna be okay. He just needs time and while he takes it, we’ll make sure you and Katara are okay. Kanna even offered to take in the two of you for the next few days.”

“We’ll be alright at home. Dad needs us.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. The gesture is appreciated but their family has grown smaller today. They need to stick together, protect one another, and help each other. Running off to Gran-Gran while his father lies comatose in the bed he and his mother once shared seems cowardly. 

Besides, he doubts Katara would be willing to even leave their snow hut. She’s almost been as lifeless as their father, lying curled up in her cot. It was disturbing, seeing his usually lively sister so beaten down in her grief. They needed to stick close together now more than ever before. 

The man sighs again, leaning over to wrap his arms around the boy. “You’re a good kid, Sokka.” 

Sokka leans into his chest and against his will, his eyes begin to burn. His good arm clutches onto Bato’s sleeve as the tears start to fall. Bato doesn’t say anything and instead rubbing his back as his shoulders shake so violently. It hits him then that his mom has hugged him for the last time. He’ll never see her again, never hear her laugh, and she’ll never see him grow up. 

He lost his mom today. Killed by a Fire Nation brute in search of any remaining water benders. He tries to shake the terror that trickles down his spine at the thought of them being attacked again. Of them taking away his sister just as they took away his mother. 

They were more soulless beasts than human, their armor making them look just as demonic as they were on the inside. It was… it was terrifying. He’s never been so scared in all his life as he was today. And he swears, if his soulmate is Fire Nation, he’s going to carve out those soulflowers from his skin. They’re monsters, every last one of them. 

“Breathe, kid. You’re alright. You’re safe.” Bato reminds him, making him realize the struggle he’s having to simply breathe. 

He calms, eventually. And his tired and worn out body falls asleep in safe arms. Peace has been ripped from their tribe just as it’s been from the world and his dreams are quick to get the message. He dreams of tall demons eating his family and village. He dreams of his soulflowers wilting like his father’s now have. 

* * *

Sokka wakes up screaming. Not from any nightmare but from the pain that flashes across the left side of his face. Anxiety and fear rush throughout his body and soul and he knows what this is. He’s never felt this before but he’s seen it happen to others. 

His dad startles awake and before he knows it, he and his sister are crowding his cot. “It’ll pass, okay? It’ll be okay. They haven’t wilted. They’re still there.” Hakoda hurriedly tells him, promises him. 

The pain lasts too long. Even Sokka knows that. It means worrying things and Sokka’s brain, for once, is on his side and refuses to think further than he already has. “How bad?” He croaks, throat dry and sore. 

Katara’s wide, almost terrified eyes tell him it’s at least not good. “I’ll go get the mirror.”

“Sokka, look at me,” His dad gently orders. “It’s bad, son. But the flowers are still there. It means they’re alive. They’re like you. They’re _strong._ ”

Katara brings the handheld mirror over to him and he uses the light of the rising sun to see his reflection. His left eye is overshadowed by a large cluster of white blooms with loose petals reaching back to his ear as if caught in the wind. If he hadn’t known what caused this, he might have thought it to be pretty. Instead, all he sees it as is grotesque and the white seems too pure for what is going to be an awful scar from the looks of it. 

His breath gets caught in his throat. “ _What happened_?” 

“I don’t know. But they’re fighting. They’re alive. Remember that and hold onto it.” His dad desperately reassures. 

“ _How_?” He shouldn’t take that for granted but the question still stands. How could someone survive something like that? It doesn’t make sense. He tries to work it out now that he sees it. The source of injury, if the cluster is anything to go by, is his eye. His soulmate will probably lose it. But the petals mean it extends further. 

Only one thing comes to mind. A burn. He meets Hakoda’s eyes and the man seems to have reached the same conclusion. “What if they’re killed?” Sokka asks, pained by his own question. 

“If they’re still alive, it means they won’t be. You can’t think like that, son. You have to have faith that they’ll be okay. They’re going to need your support.” He says though Sokka struggles to see how he could actually not worry about this. 

His soulmate was marred so badly that the soulflower hadn’t waited to form. It has struck just as hard as the fire likely had. And even that was only a theory. He didn’t know. Not for certain. He hoped his soulmate wasn’t alone, that they had their family looking after them. Maybe their dad was comforting them like Hakoda was doing now. Maybe they had a sister and she was just as worried as Katara. He hoped they had a mom that was just as wonderful as his own had been. That she’d be there for them, whoever they were. 

* * *

Bato is quick to tell him how badass his soulmate will look and Sokka does his best to seem amused. He always thought the same but now he doesn’t care. His soulmate can be the lamest, most boring person on earth, just as long as they’re actually _alive._

Gran-Gran takes him aside and they sit together to pray to the spirits. He usually avoided this spiritual side of his grandmother but for once, he goes with it. Desperate for anything that’ll help his soulmate. 

The worst part is that, obviously, his soulmate was hurt like they were. But Sokka figures the looks he now gets are pretty up there on the list. It’s annoying at the very best. Some of the elders react more than he did, some tell him to prepare for the worst, and others act like the soulflowers are as good as wilted. 

He hoped that time would lessen the reaction of the tribe. And eventually, it did. His old pain was exchanged for a new one, the worry of his soulmate’s life replaced by the worry for his dad’s. 

Despite his chagrin at being left behind, he took up his responsibilities. He stepped up as the last man of their tribe and got better at hunting real quick. His skills came with a few new scars but none were as drastic as his soulmate’s was sure to be. 

He just hoped Katara got better at her freaky bendy crap. He was tired of her freezing him, freezing the fish, and freezing the boat in the water. One of these days her bending was going to get them into trouble. He just knew it.   
  
  



	2. fractured truths and distant goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's foundation has always been a little shaky but added fears make it even more so.

Zuko remembers his first soulmark well enough, his youth, and the few years having faded the memory some. He’d been sitting with his mother, listening to her sing him to sleep when the stems had slowly come in. The side of his index finger had been itching for a few hours but it hadn’t been too noticeable. By the time he woke up, there were sharp, violet petals painted across his finger. 

Since then, a few more blooms have crept up and used his body like a tapestry. He takes pride in them, he swears he does, but there are days he’s glad he can hide them. He hates when Azula looks at them, hates it even more when his father does. It’s just that the soulmarks are between him and Agni. And, of course, his soulmate. So it’s best to keep it that way. 

“The petals are so small! And look how ugly the purple is. Poor Zuzu, your soulmate’s just as pathetic as you.” Azula taunts, giving him another reason to add to the list of why he should keep his marks covered. 

“Shut up, Azula! At least I have soulmarks!” He snaps in response despite how often his mother tells him not to engage. 

Azula rolls her eyes, not one bit caring. “And? You know what father says. Soulmates carry _weaknesses_. I’d never want to be like you anyways.”

“You’re just jealous!” He accuses and he flushes before she can even begin to laugh. It’s a weak come back and he knows that. He knows he’s weak, she’s better, and everything else she could possibly say. He just doesn’t need it rubbed in. 

And laugh she does. She doubles over as she falls into giggles. “Jealous?! Of _you_?! _As if_!” 

“What’s going on here?!” His mother, his saving grace, he only tether to this palace, asks. She storms down the hall towards them, skirts billowing behind her. 

Azula straightens up and offers their mother a wide smile. “Nothing, Mother. We were just talking about soulflowers.”

She offers his sister a once over before facing him, clearly hesitant to put any stock of faith into Azula’s words. He doesn’t blame her. She’s always lying. The only time she doesn’t is when the truth hurts more. “Zuko?”

“We’re just talking about soulflowers.” He sighs, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it. His mother and sister would argue, his sister would seek some form of retribution, usually in the form of public humiliation, and nothing would really be done. It’s just easier to go with Azula’s lies sometimes. 

Ursa doesn’t push further, which he’s thankful for. “Alright then. Azula, your tutor is looking for you. Zuko, follow me, sweetheart.”

He does as asked, not missing the way Azula glares at their mother. By the soft sigh, he assumes she doesn’t miss it either. His sister is a mystery and if she weren’t so much like their father, he’d assume it was all because she’s a girl. 

* * *

Ursa’s ankle is decorated with wide and open yellow petals. They’re beautiful and they don’t match any of Ozai’s scars. Zuko knows he shouldn’t ask, probably shouldn’t even know, but he does. 

She takes great lengths to hide the soulmarks. He doubts anyone in court even knows she has them. They probably assume her body is bare of them just as they speculate Ozai’s is. He’s glad his parents aren’t soulmates and doesn't think his mother’s gentle nature would ever go well with Ozai’s cold demeanor. 

“Have you met them?” He finally asks after years of keeping the question in the back of his throat. 

She goes completely still, as tense as she is around Ozai, and he wants to take it back. He knew it was a dumb, _stupid_ question. And now he’s _hurt_ his mother. Agni, Azula was right. He really is useless, isn’t he?

A few moments pass and Zuko spends that time soaking in his shame. Until finally, she answers. “I grew up with him.”

It steals the breath from his lungs. Soulmates are precious, aren’t they? They’re gifts from Agni himself that they should never, ever waste. That’s what all those stories say. It’s what the Fire Sages say. Perhaps Zuko could understand if the flowers were wilted but they’re not. Her soulmate is alive and yet she married his father? “Why? Was he cruel?”

“No! Spirits, no. He was the gentlest man I’ve ever known. There are times you remind me of him, my sweet turtleduck.” She palms his cheek and she tries to give him a smile. It falls short by the broken look in her eyes that she so often shields him from. 

“Then,” he tries to wrap his brain around it, tries to fathom leaving a soulmate so wonderful and perfect for someone like his father. “Why?”

She turns away, goes back to the crumbled loaf of bread in her hands. As if that’ll help her find a way to explain to him. “Zuko, my love, it’s not as simple as you think. You’ll learn when you’re older.”

“Well, explain it then!” He urges, frustrated with adults deciding what he can and cannot know. He can handle the truth plenty!

“Alright, fine.” She sighs, dumping the loaf pieces into the water. Usually, she’d scold him if he did such a thing but he doubts they’ll feed the turtleducks anymore today. “I didn’t simply decide to leave him, Zuko. I really had no choice. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He listens with rapt attention as she tells the tale of two soulmates who grew up together. They shared each other’s pain, learned to love together, and they were so, so happy. And then the second prince came to their island in search of a beautiful wife. Ozai had picked her out as his chosen, his intended, and she took up the responsibility. 

“I never wanted to leave him. But my parents are able to live the rest of their life together, unbothered with all the riches they can ask for. I’ve made sure he’s protected. And I am able to serve my country the best way I can.” She explains. “Sometimes, there are things that are… _more_ than soulmates. Our people, for one. It would have been selfish of me to say no. I’m not saying it’s perfect or even _right_. That’s up to Agni, isn’t it? But it’s life and as tough a pill as it is to swallow, I’ve managed to have two beautiful children. I get to love you, Zuko. So it’s a worthy trade, is it not?”

He doesn’t say anything. Because, truth is, as foolish as it is, he hadn’t considered that before. He knows many of the politicians he was forced to meet are not married to their soulmate. He knows other noble families that marry for monetary gain rather than fated love. 

His stomach sinks. He never before cared about who his soulmate was but now, he prays to Agni that they’re someone he won’t have to deny. He thinks he might break like his mother has if he has to. If he’s lucky, he won’t meet them. But he knows the only luck he’s ever had has been bad. 

* * *

Lu Ten, like his father, displays his soulmarks with pride. It’s not a taboo to do so but Zuko finds it beautiful to be so free. His uncle and cousin are mocked for it and people speak of them having gentle hearts as if it’s wrong. Zuko fears the same can be said about him as well but tries not to dwell on it for too long. 

He watches his cousin move through positions and stances, tries to imitate them, and tries not to stare too much at the yellow roses that dot his back like freckles. He hopes Lu Ten’s soulmate is okay. Those types of soulmarks are always worrying. 

“Do you think they’re okay?” Zuko asks softly, wondering if he was too far out of line. But Lu Ten has always been patient with him and he figures it’s alright. 

He pauses in his demonstrations, glancing down at the cluster of roses on his hip. “They’re still alive, aren’t they?”

Not like his uncle’s. Not like Lu Ten’s mother. Yet, Iroh continues to show off his wilted soulmarks, just as proud as he was when they first bloomed. _It shows his loss but it also shows his love_ , at least, that’s what he told Zuko when he once asked. 

“They must be strong,” Zuko concludes, offering a bright smile in hopes of lightening the topic. 

“Of course they are! They’re handsome, obviously. And not to mention brave!” He laughs. He doesn’t laugh like Azula, he throws his head back and lets it carry through the air. Let others soak up the sound until they join him. Zuko likes his laugh. 

“You’ve met them?!” He exclaims, dropping his Dao blades to rush to his cousin’s side. 

That just leads to Lu Ten laughing even harder. “Of course not! You’d know if I had, silly. But it makes sense that my soulmate would be like that, doesn’t it? I can’t wait to meet them.”

“What if they’re mean and cruel?” He tests, beating back his guilt for not feeling the same way. 

Lu Ten just shakes his head. “Then they wouldn’t be my soulmate. Or there’s a reason for it. Agni wouldn’t give me someone who was senselessly cruel.”

* * *

Lu Ten never meets his soulmate. 

Zuko never sees his mother again. 

Iroh is removed from the direct line of succession. 

* * *

There’s fire and it _hurts_. He can feel his skin bubbling, can smell his charred flesh, and he makes the mistake of leaning into his father’s palm like it’ll offer any comfort after burning him the way that it did. It consumes his senses and he distantly hears someone screaming. He thinks the sound might burst his eardrums with how shrill it is, wonders what made someone scream so awfully. His train of thought is ended with the intense, neverending feeling of _pain pain pain this hurts, make it stop, please father, I'll be a good son. I am a loyal son. STOP, PLEASE, I CAN BE BETTER, JUST PLEASE IT HURTS!_

“Suffering will be your teacher.” Is the last thing he hears, his father standing tall and powerful above him. As if he is nothing. As if he has finally proven himself to be the disgrace he was always told he was. 

* * *

He wakes up on a small ship with men he doesn’t know and an uncle who tries to help too much. He’s told of the Fire Lord’s requirements to return home and channels everything into it with a vengeance. It doesn’t occur to him until his bandages can be removed that his soulmate must bear this mark now. 

Zuko has the mark of traitor burned into his face and his soulmate is forced to wear it too despite having done nothing wrong. They’re probably ashamed of him now. They probably want nothing to do with him, too disgusted by what the flowers must tell them. 

He doesn’t blame them. Not one bit. And that’s the last thought he allows himself to have about them. He’ll do as his mother did; serve his people and family first. He’d be selfish to do otherwise. 

Zuko lets them go. He covers his marks the best he can and scolds himself every time he looks for flowers on someone’s face. They’d be better off without him and he’d be stronger on his own. He can’t afford to be _weak_ any longer. The best he can do is try and not mark them anymore. 

It’s easier said than done, though. Relearning familiarity with fire is harder than he expected and it leads to more than a few private breakdowns. Weeks after a particularly bad one, he realizes there are five crescent scars on each bicep from where he held himself too tightly. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. A way to distract himself. 

It might not be all that noticeable against his pale skin but small petals certainly would be. He really needs to stop inflicting his scars onto his soulmate. He’s ruining them. He really is useless, isn’t he? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck, I was not expecting this to be so supported so quickly. This chapter is 100% going to be the shortest chapter and I would have cut it had it not included my baby Lu Ten. This is also going to be the quickest update though. But next chapter includes their meet-cute.


	3. the arms race in burning flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the meet-cute of the century and only one can come out the victor. Spoiler alert, it's neither of them.

Sokka called it as a child and sure enough, it happened. Katara’s freak powers got them in way over their heads and led them to a frozen _air nomad_. One who knew nothing about the war and in Sokka’s opinion was far too suspicious. He may also be his little sister’s soulmate but that had nothing to do with Sokka’s suspicion of him. None what so ever. 

Katara, the traitor that she was, welcomed the strange boy with open arms and even brought him to their village. Again, they were soulmates, but Sokka’s fairly certain she would have done that regardless just to mess with him. The boy, because that’s what he was, too scrawny and childish to ever be considered otherwise, was far too desperate to have Katara’s attention. 

He tripped over himself just to look at her, blushed every time they spoke, and acted like a complete nut just to have her laugh. That last part might just be who he was, actually. Sokka had seen him do the same with the children in the village. He was still trying to figure out whether or not that made it better or worse. He was leaning towards the latter. 

But he crossed the line at triggering a Fire Nation trap, accidental or not. Had Aang not been the soulmate of a tribe member, Sokka would have been allowed to kick him out. This was stopped by the tall yellow flowers that Katara wore and the curled blue petals on Aang. Despite what was _clearly_ treason, Sokka was duty-bound. So, the air bender stayed, hidden away in Gran-Gran’s tent. 

Sokka, as the last warrior of their tribe, took up battle preparations alone. He did as his dad taught him, painting his face with war and reciting his prayers to spirits he was certain stopped listening decades ago. The other ‘warriors’ were made to stay away from any fight that might come. They were too young and he refused to have their blood on his hands. 

“You’re certain he’ll stay put?” Sokka finds it hard to believe. He’d known Aang for little less than half a day and even he knew sitting still would be a challenge. 

Katara huffs but nods. “He will.”

With things finally beginning to line up, Sokka takes his place as his tribe’s last and only line of defense. He keeps his spear close and his boomerang closer and tries not to choke at the giant metal ship that rips into their land and ruins their wall of defense. He reminds himself to be brave, to hold onto it, because his village can’t take another attack. He can’t lose someone else again. And he’s the only thing that stands between that happening.

The solid snow beneath his feet crumbles and he keeps his balance to his surprise. Then the Fire Nation descends upon their village, all but three hiding their faces with demonic masks that still haunt him sometimes. At the center of them, the one leading and giving orders, is a boy about his age. His skin is the bleached paleness his people seem to come in with eyes that carry the fire of his nation. His face is twisted and snarled and across his face is a mottled, disfiguring scar.

As soon as Sokka’s brain puts the pieces together, his entire senses are flooded with the richest sweetness he’s ever smelled. He desperately tries to hold his breath, tries to reject the smell out of his nose, out of his memory, and out of his soul. Because this other boy wears his armor like he was born for it and his eyes, despite carrying fire, are far colder than any winter he’s known. This… this monster cannot be his soulmate. He refuses. 

He’s always known the spirits were full of shit and this finally proves it. How could anyone ever expect to love someone like _him_?! He hopes this is a lie or a trick formulated by the Fire Nation to blindside their enemies but the look of abhorred trepidation tells Sokka otherwise. Then his face closes off entirely and he continues his march, literally kicking Sokka out of his path. 

He wonders what it means if a monster rejects him. If it’s because of the other is a monster or if Sokka already seems like that horrible of a soulmate. He pushes the thought far from his mind, wipes the snow off his face and his warrior paint in the process. He’ll do as his soulmate did. Reject, ignore, and move on. Except Sokka will reject, kick some ass, and then move on. Beating your problems until they’re no longer problems seems to be the right move here. 

“Where is he?” The leading soldier hoarsely questions and Sokka represses his natural reaction to the sound of it.

He takes his chances and begins to run at the teen, heart pounding at the aggressive display of fire, and he really would hate it if is soulmate was the one to burn his village down. With a cry, he swings his spear at him. He defends it easily, even breaks the spearhead off, before he looks up and sees the white flowers across half of Sokka’s face. 

Somehow, he manages to pale even further, his scar standing even starker against his face. It means Sokka has the chance to blindside him with an attack and there’s a likelihood it’ll work. He takes it with little regret and manages to floor the other boy.

“You’re not welcome here,” Sokka tells him as he rises to his feet far too elegantly for Sokka’s liking. He tries to channel all his rage and disappointment into his words, tries to inflict a wound worse than any of the ones he carries with his voice alone. 

All he gets in response is a shutter in his eyes and he counts that as a small victory. “I’ll take my leave once I have the Avatar. I know this village is harboring him! Don’t play dumb!”

He lowers himself to the ground, positioning himself into a stance, and Sokka tries to prepare himself. But before he knows it, he’s being flung out of the way again. Like he weighs nothing, _is_ nothing. 

There’s another show of fire and the children scream as Sokka tries to get back to his feet. It’s only Aang knocking the soldier down that prevents him from ending up charred by his own soulmate. “Stop! Please! These people have done nothing! It’s me you want!”

The soldier scrambles to his feet, glaring so fiercely that Sokka’s surprise the snow hasn’t melted all around him. “You?! You’re the Avatar?! I’ve spent years training for this! You’re just a kid!”

Aang doesn’t seem insulted. He just furrows his brows together and looks him up and down. “But you’re just a teenager.”

And yeah, despite being, you know, the _Avatar, apparently,_ Sokka might not outright hate the kid. That pale face flushes with indignation and it’s the only good thing that’s happened out of all of this. Serves the bastard right. Now if only he or Aang could actually land a hit. 

The soldier doesn’t seem to find it quite so funny though. He makes daggers out of his own flames, which, _seriously_? That’s a _thing_? His fellow soldiers follow his lead and Aang has enough sense to know a losing fight when he sees one. He holds up his hands and Sokka feels his stomach drop. 

“Wait! If I go with you, you have to promise to leave this village alone!” Aang bargains, pleads really. 

Suspicious but clearly not willing to throw this chance away, the teen accepts. “Alright. Fine.” He turns to his men, gestures for Aang. “Get him.”

Aang takes a step back, eyes wide. “Do you promise?!” 

“Yes! No more harm will come to this place!” He snarls, face scarier than those masks the other soldiers wear. 

And the spirits thought he’d be perfect for Sokka. What an absolute joke. At least he sticks to his word, retreating with his sister’s soulmate as she calls after him. 

* * *

Sokka stews in his own mind and whatever it is he’s feeling. He lets Katara frantically pack her things and knows she’s packing his as well. Her worry is for her soulmate’s safety. His worry is if the universe gave him a monstrous soulmate because he’s secretly one as well. 

He’d been worried all those years ago. Thought that scar had been because of the Fire Nation and it fueled his hatred even more. Turns out that’s not quite the case, is it? Those white flowers were nothing but a mockery, to the both of them. And he hoped the other boy was just as disappointed, just as angry as he was. Serves him right. 

“How're you holding up, Sokka?” Gran-Gran asks, giving her best, most warmest smile. 

Usually, it’d be enough to break him, but this time he manages to stay quiet. “Fine.”

“Really?” She pushes, eyes lingering on the left side of his face. 

He’d thought the staring was bad enough before. The scar that had caused his soulmarking was worse than he’d thought and he wonders how anyone can put up with the looks such a wound must garner. Sokka knows he’d stayed up late for days just making sure his flowers didn’t wilt. He’d been wrought with worry and the bastard had probably got it in some training accident. Training how to kill anyone who wasn’t Fire Nation and how to be a dick, probably. 

“Of course. Don’t worry about me, Gran-Gran. I’m just…” He pauses, swallows back words that want to be screamed out. He fights against the questions he wants to ask, the pleas that the spirits were bound to ignore going with them. “You know, Katara’s soulmate turned out to be the fated savior of the world. Mines a murderer. Guess the spirits never got the memo to not pick favorites, huh?”

Gran-Gran takes a seat and she looks her age for once, resting a hand over his clenched fists. “Oh, you thick-headed boy. Why would the spirits give you a horrible person when you are anything but?”

“As a joke? To laugh at my suffering?” He answers, something he feels can apply to a lot in his life. He’s realizing he’s not really the lucky type. Especially with recent events. 

“I know he is not what you think,” He scoffs, because yeah, out of all the people he imagined, _that_ was not one of them. “But there is a reason fate has tied the two of you together. You don’t have to like the boy. But perhaps be patient with him and be kind. You might be surprised by what you find.”

“Thanks, Gran-Gran,” He begins, pulling his hands away from her. “But I think I’ve had enough surprises for now.”

She sighs and takes a step back. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem upset with him, so he doesn’t feel too bad for ending it there. “Very well. I’ll go help your sister pack your things. You’ve got a good head, Sokka. _Use it_.”

* * *

Sokka watches them from the corner of his eye and he tries to be happy for his sister. He really does. He can see how well they fit together, how easily they compliment each other even now. He knows as they grow, they’ll only become stronger, and he’s proud of that. Proud of his little sister for not jumping blindly into something for once, for asking the younger boy for time to truly get to know each other before they decide on anything. 

The only thing he and his soulmate agree on is to not acknowledge what they are to each other. Apparently. At least they’ve got that going for them. 

“So was Prince Zuko it?” Aang gently prods, eyes far too understanding for someone his age. Sokka would have looked away and ignored the question altogether if it hadn’t been the name that stuck out. 

“Who?” He hears someone ask, probably himself, but his head is swimming now. 

Aang’s eyes grow big and wide. “The boy with the scar and ponytail? It’s… they called him that. Prince Zuko.”

At least his soulmate isn’t a soldier of the Fire Nation. Oh no, it’s even better. His soulmate just leads it’s spirits damned people. And once the current Fire Lord passes along the title, it’ll probably be his soulmate who takes it up. Sokka’s brain short circuits, struggling to cope with the information that the spirits not only hate him, they downright despise him. They ‘spit on his grave and laugh in his face’ despise him. If past lives are real, and if looking at Aang is any indication that they might be, he must have screwed up big time. 

“Sokka?” Katara gently calls, gloved hand resting on his shoulder. “Are you ok?”

“Yep. Just wondering what I did to deserve this. Cause it must’ve been _real_ bad. But hey, don’t worry about me. You’ve got the freakin Avatar to be with. I’ll just be here. Stuck with the Prince of soulless monsters.” He tries to laugh but it comes out too hollow, too brittle, to be anything other than pained. 

She sighs like Gran-Gran had, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Sokka. But this doesn’t mean you’re like them.” 

“I’m sure loads of soulmates don’t always work out!” Aang adds on, truly trying to help, and while Sokka appreciates the gesture, he can’t help but cringe back into himself. 

The worst part, probably the most selfish too, is that they couldn’t even try. That Sokka would never, ever know what it would be like to simply sit with someone who was made for his very soul and him in turn. The familiarity and comfort that all soulmates had were lost on him entirely. Talk about a bad hand in life. 

Maybe he was cursed. He’ll have to ask Aang. He’s more well versed in spirits. Probably. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no self-control and therefore, I give you this chapter so soon. Everyone has been so kind and I really hope their meeting held up to your expectations. I know it's not as earth-shattering as some might have expected but the angst will come. And it will come with a vengeance. To give everyone a little taste of the next chapter, it involves Yue and Sokka! If you couldn't tell, I'm moving through season one real quick lmao


	4. discarding what could be ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids aren't alright and neither is the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up cause this is double the length of the first few chapters. It also features both Sokka and Zuko's perspective and a rushed summary of season one.

In the past two years, Zuko had shoved quite a few things to the back of his mind. Among those things were memories of his mother, the things he learned while traveling, and any thoughts of his soulmate. He shut off his heart and his mind to whoever that person was and went on with his life. His duty.

His soul didn’t get the memo. Even weeks after, the crisp scent of the salty arctic and gentle summer wildflowers wouldn’t leave his senses. Why couldn’t that damned boy stay back at home? Why did he have to join the Avatar? Couldn’t his sister be the only one to accompany him? She was his soulmate, if he heard through the grapevine correctly, so what use was he?

Zuko prepared the worst in every aspect of his life. Yet, he was still taken aback by this. A Southern Water Tribe peasant who was unable to even bend. If he hadn’t brought shame to his family before, he certainly had now. It was only a matter of time before the news was out and he dreaded to think of what Azula would say. She’d probably laugh for hours, telling him it's what he deserves, before congratulating him on his bad luck that still manages to screw everything up so spectacularly. 

To deal with the entire issue, he instead focused on the Avatar. His goal was _right_ there. He was so close to making his father proud, to going home, and taking back his mantle as the crowned prince. He was tired of being the _banished_ crowned prince, the feeling having worn out its welcome a few years ago. 

He wanted to go home. And despite the many poems, plays, and songs written, home was _not_ his soulmate. Could _never_ be his soulmate. 

He was okay with that. He had to be. His father was a glorious leader and he didn’t have a soulmate so clearly Zuko didn’t need one either. It was just a distraction and that was all. 

* * *

People whispered about those without marks. It didn’t matter how generous they were, or even how nice, if you didn’t have soulmarks. It was better to have wilted flowers than it was to have none at all. 

They said those without soulmarks were soulless creatures. That they only had room for one within their hearts and it was themself. It had become quite treasonous to say such things once Ozai became Fire Lord but Zuko still heard it all. 

If he ever paid heed to such stupid superstition, it would be because of Commander Zhao. With no soulmarks and a greed for power, Zuko thinks he might have just found the poster boy for the rumors. He’d like the attention so surely he wouldn’t mind too much. 

He was a disrespectful bully who had too much control and yet his father continued to give him even more of it. Zhao’s hunger wasn’t even satiated with his new promotion. Now he wanted Zuko’s mission. He interrogated Zuko’s men and sniffed out the truth like a piranha-shark after blood. Even had the nerve to lock away him and his uncle until he got that head start in the search. 

“I’ll find the Avatar before you!” Zuko vows, indignant in his anger. He stares the slimy bastard down and wishes he were closer to hitting distance. 

Zhao laughs and it reminds him of Azula. “Oh? I don’t know if you’re aware, _Prince Zuko_ , but I have an entire fleet at my command. What do you have? No home, no allies, even your own father doesn’t want you! You’re nothing more than a banished little boy.”

“Shut up! You’re wrong!” He shouts, palms beginning to burn. “Once I deliver the Avatar, my father will welcome me home with honor!” 

He levels him a patronizing look and never before has Zuko wanted to claw someone’s eyes out so badly. He can imagine how it would feel, how satisfying it would be. Maybe he’d finally shut up once and for all. “It’s become a bit of a trend to be unwanted, isn’t it Prince Zuko? What was it that your men told me? Oh, right. One of the Avatar’s companions, a filthy water tribe savage, is your soulmate. How does it feel that a savage doesn’t even want you?”

Zuko surges forward, only stopped by the guards. The guards that _should_ be listening to Zuko because he should outrank Zhao here. But he makes sure to snarl, to let the man know just how pleasing the thought of burning him alive currently is. 

“Your father would have let you come home if he wanted you there. But do you really think he would want you back if he knew? Even the spirits know how weak you are.” Zhao steps closer, only inches away from the restrained prince, and he gives his sweetest saccharine smile. “Don’t worry. Once I capture the Avatar, I’ll help you out and wilt those soulmarks for you.”

“Do it and it’ll be the last thing you ever do!” He can’t hold back the threat, can’t stop the sudden rupture in his chest at just the _idea_ of his soulflowers wilting. Call him a hypocrite or a coward, he’s chasing down and endangering his soulmate, after all, but to see the other boy killed would likely fracture what little hope Zuko has left in the world. 

Zhao finally removes himself from his personal space and he seems far too delighted with a now murderous Zuko. “Is that a challenge?”

“Yeah! Agni Kai, sundown!” He knows it's foolish, doesn’t even need to look at his uncle to see his disappointment. He knows what happened last time he participated in an Agni Kai. He also knows it was a mistake to react so strongly to the mention of his soulmate. He’d just highlighted all his weaknesses for Zhao to see and pick apart and Zuko alone was to blame for that. 

It seems this is the outcome Zhao had wanted though. “Very well. I do hope that barbarian doesn’t mind wearing your failure for the rest of his life.”

By the time the Commander finally takes his leave, Zuko is struggling not to burn down the tent. It’s only Iroh’s reminders to control his breathing that he doesn’t. So he focuses on his breaths, his upcoming battle, and figures it’ll all work out. It has to. He’ll make it work out even if it doesn’t.

* * *

The Avatar might be a thirteen-year-old boy but he was a slippery bastard. Zuko struggled to keep track, relying on the gossip in ports and rumored sightings. It was a tactic he’d gotten better at, one he doubted most would be willing to use. 

But it served his purpose. It helped lead him to Kyoshi Island. He didn’t typically like using the komodo-rhinos but it was best for travel on land. The village was more inland than they were willing to walk and Zuko reasoned that it could serve as some exercise for the animals. They were far too cooped up in the ship as it was. 

The women with war paint and sharpened fans were more than impressive. They wielded the two-bladed fans better than he wielded his Dao blades. He’d recruit them if he could, if they were Fire Nation. He would have taken the time to appreciate the good sparring match if it weren’t for the urgency for catching the Avatar. Said boy was always quick to escape. 

It was right about the time he was thrown from his komodo-rhino that he noticed a figure that wasn’t as feminine as he originally believed. Their face was painted just the same and they even wore the same rich green robes. But beneath the paint, a starker white stood out against their left eye just barely, and their eyes were icy blue as opposed to the villagers’ brown or green. 

It was no Kyoshi warrior. By the time Zuko realized, it was too late to pull back his hits even if he wanted to. The damage was done and he watched as another warrior dragged his soulmate away safely. Then he was gone. The Avatar with him. He got the distinct feeling they took more than he was willing to admit with them. 

The village burned and Zuko ignored that raging inferno within that burned with it. It was the stupid connotations that came with soulmates, is all. If that peasant wasn’t his soulmate, he wouldn’t feel anything but frustration from failing to catch the Avatar. He would have seen him as just another obstacle. 

Everything else he felt was as unnecessary and unwelcomed as his soulmate was. Besides, he probably blew any chance he might have ever had. Attacking the boy’s village and then burning another one down seemed to be the type of behavior that made others run from their soulmates. But it’s alright. 

* * *

He was breaking the rules of his banishment. But it was his chance and he wasn’t letting go, he was grasping at it with both hands and damn the consequences. His father would understand. He had to. Zuko _needed_ to do this. 

So he entered Fire Nation waters, forced the Wani through a blockade, and snuck away to the Fire Temple under the ship’s smoke. He’d hoped it would lead Zhao the wrong direction, that the man would head north instead. It seemed Zuko was wrong, as usual, and the man had seen right through the smokescreen. Literally. 

On top of the Avatar slipping off to the sanctuary room and locking himself inside, Zuko was left empty-handed. He added ‘defeated’ to that list when Zhao made his grand appearance. He really was the worst. But Zuko knew he’d fail too and that meant he was dragging the commander down with him. That alone made it worth it. 

“The Avatar and two traitors. What a proud day it is for the Fire Nation.” Zhao delighted and if Zuko wasn’t restrained, he worried what he would do to the man who has been a bane in his existence since the day they met. He especially didn’t like the way his eyes caught onto the Water Tribe siblings.

“You’re too late!” Zuko’s soulmate gloated, even when tied against a pillar with his sister. 

Zhao waved it off, not once bit affected. “He’ll have to come out at some point and I’ll be ready when he does.” He turns on his heels but pauses to look back at the waterbender, mock sympathy in every line of his body. “Oh, right. You might want to get a good last look at your soulmarks if you can.”

She lets out an animalistic cry, one that sends shivers down Zuko’s spine but seems to be a source of amusement for Zhao. “You won’t get away with this!”

He just keeps laughing and for once, Zuko might be on the same page as the Water Tribe siblings. He’d help them get rid of the man if he could. If they wouldn’t just get rid of Zuko right after. They might even celebrate the wilted flowers. 

He pushes the thought out of his head and holds his breath. He can’t bring himself to look towards anyone. He knows, somehow, despite how improbable it seems, the Avatar will survive this and escape. He’s lucky like that. Zuko, on the other hand, works for his luck, and even then it still blows up in his face. He’s silent as he plans his escape. He can’t be brought in by Zhao, can’t be thrown into prison, not before he regains his honor. 

When the waves of fire begin, he feels those icy blue eyes on him. And like a coward he’s always been told he was, he runs for it as soon as the chains melt. He won’t be burned again and he won’t wait around to get caught in the crossfire. 

On the way back to his ship, he takes off his armor and keeps watch over the blue blooms. For the first time in years, he allows himself to look his body over and see if there are any new soulmarks. There’s a few and he thinks he might have caused at least one. But in the end, he can’t control this. He can’t control anything at all, not even his own emotions. And he _has_ to be okay with that. 

* * *

While dirtying his hands with pirates is the last thing he wanted to do, Zuko does it anyway. Oddly enough, it was thanks to his uncle and his eccentric requests that he was so close. It’s the waterbender that they track down first and she looks at him with a hatred he knows her brother shares. 

She snarls and spits out the cruelest words she can, the waves in the river growing even more violent when she sees her necklace in his hands. “Do my brother a favor and jump in the river. He deserves better than something like you.” She suggests with her teeth bared. 

He debates it, wonders if his soulmate would relish it if he did as she said. In the end, it’s him who ruins everything. He opens his mouth and taunts the pirates with the possibility of more gold and Zuko curses every spirit he knows of. While he can objectively agree it's a good move, a smart one even, he still resents the fact that it ends with his ship needing some major repairs.

Though if asked, he will absolutely deny the way his heart seized in his chest when the trio went tumbling over the waterfall. And as they fly away, as he misses his chance again, he meets eyes with his soulmate. And he realizes he almost wilted his own flowers and that… that might not be okay. Its Sokka who turns his head first and Zuko stares on, his ruined ship forgotten.

* * *

The Wani goes down in flames and Zuko clings onto life until Iroh helps him out of the river. His hip is burning and he wonders if it’ll scar, if it already left its mark against his soulmate. Everything hurts but he only lets himself think about his mission. It’s the only thing that makes sense anymore. He feels too brittle to think about anything else, anything at all. He can feel his resolve crumbling and no amount of reshaping is helping it stay together. 

He hides away on Zhao’s ship and then he tries not to freeze to death. But his uncle has taught him well, especially when it comes to breathing, and he survives, just as he has always done. He does the only thing he knows how to do and he hunts the Avatar down and ignores his soulmate. 

He never wanted this. His heart aches, the heart he’s ignored for these last few years because it reminds him too much of his mother. He’s starting to think things will never be okay. Especially when he fails. Again and again and again, he fails. The waterbender had been right. He was unworthy of even having a soulmate. He didn’t deserve his home, wasn’t worthy to lead his people, and he realized the luck behind his birth was _bad_.

❃❃❃

The Northern Water Tribe was everything its sister tribe wasn’t. It had the snow, ice, and cold, that was no stranger to Sokka. But they used those things to make beautiful, towering buildings. Not to mention the key difference, so many people living within its walls. There were so many benders too, much to his sister’s delight. 

Once they were recognized, they were welcomed with open arms. And sure, there might have been a hiccup or two between Katara and Master Pakku, but things were quickly resolved thanks to her necklace and the way she practically dominated the battlefield. Apparently, even though his sister was untrained, she was still remarkably strong. After seeing the things she’s done, he isn’t the least bit surprised by that assessment. 

And while Aang and Katara were usually busy practicing their bending, Sokka got to know the Princess. It happened by chance that he grew so familiar with her but he found himself glad that he did. Princess Yue was beautiful and she had a smile that blinded him. She even found him funny and laughed at times even he found himself cringing. She was so good.

She was nothing like the angry Prince the spirits tied him to. 

He… he liked her. A lot. And he wondered why it couldn’t be her, couldn’t be this kind and gentle princess that smiled at him like he was more than a peasant from the south. She smiled with those dimples and those soft eyes and he felt _seen_ in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. He loved her smile in this very moment and greedily took it in, knowing how precious a sight it was. For whatever reasons the spirits didn’t give her a soulmate, it wasn’t because she was evil or soulless. She was anything but those things.

Her gloved hand rested on his cheek and her smile began to fall as she caressed the white blooms found on his left eye. “You never talk about him.” She mentions lightly.

He tenses at the mention. Because, truth be told, he’d be trying to forget he even had them. He’s also surprised she hasn’t mentioned them before. It’s no secret who his soulmate is. How could it be when it was so glaringly obvious? He had Fire Nation practically branded into his skin thanks to that jerk prince. She wasn’t the first to bring it up, either. Her father had that first night they arrived, bringing Sokka to the side. He’d asked if he should be wary, if he needed to watch and make sure Sokka didn’t turn traitor. The answer had been and continues to be a resounding _no_. 

It didn’t mean people looked at him strangely. Be it for the soulmark itself or the person it came from. If people knew the prince, they typically treated Sokka like a weak-willed maiden who couldn’t control himself. As if he’d run to the prince just because he was apparently _supposed_ to. 

But Yue never treated him like that. She didn’t take pity on him and she didn’t treat him like a potential enemy. Spirits, she didn’t even treat him like a sidekick of Aang and his sister. So he gave in to the topic and answered honestly. Because she deserved at least that. She deserved so much more than what he could ever offer her. 

“You know who it is?” He asks, having to be certain that she understands, that he wouldn’t just deny his soulmate because he could. 

She nods, her thumb caressing his cheek, and she looks radiant in the moonlight like this. “I do. And it’s okay, Sokka. You know that, don’t you?”

He weakly smiles, pretends that he really does know that when its the furthest thing from the truth. “Yeah. I don’t bring it up because it…” He pauses, swallows thickly, and tries to find the words he’s looking for. “Tui and La must have made a mistake. Or they got carried away with a joke.” He tries to end it on a laugh but it falls into a sigh as he looks away, unable to stand the intense compassion found in her eyes.

“Or,” She begins, bringing his eyes back to her. “They knew someone so complicated would need someone so patient.” 

“Wait, so, you want me to be with him?” He asks incredulously.

She laughs and all he can think is that it sounds an awful lot like bells. “Sokka, I want you to be happy! That’s all.”

This. Why couldn’t his soulmate be like this? Why couldn’t it be her soulmarks etched into his skin? Why couldn’t it be as easy as it was with her? “But what if I’m happy with you?”

Yue presses her forehead against his but doesn’t move closer. “You’re amazing. And you’re kind, so incredibly kind. And you know why we can’t be together.”

He does. He loathes her necklace about as much as he loathes his soulmarks at this point. Another obstacle, another slap in the face from fate, and another reason for him to resent the world in general. “Doesn’t mean I’m still not happy in your company."

He manages to make her blush bright pink and counts it as a success. If only he could freeze time or rewrite fate, keep them in this moment forever and actually let it be allowed. He might not love her but he can see the fall ahead. He should try and stop it while he can, before its too late, but he wasn’t lying. He really is happy with her and if that means some pain in the future, it was well worth it.

* * *

Maybe Sokka should feel a little more weirded out about his… uh… whatever Yue is to him cradling his soulmate’s head as they fly away from the frozen tundra. But with the sky turning red, he had more important things to worry about, like how light-headed Yue was getting with each passing second. Things weren’t going well and they didn’t get any better when they reached the Oasis once more.

That one Admiral, whatever his name was, had taken hold of the moon spirit fish and the madness that gleamed in his eyes was really not a good look. Sokka didn’t think he’d actually do it. He and the few men he brought with him were outnumbered and outmatched. And he’d never seen the old general so angry, so serious, before. That alone should have frightened the man off. 

But it didn’t and he struck the spirit, killing it in the pond where it’s other half swam around it, desperate and frightened. Things moved quickly then. Too fast for Sokka to truly keep track of. All he knew was that the spirit murderer had slipped away and it was up to Yue to save not only the Northern Water Tribe but waterbending as well. 

“Please, don’t do this!” He pleaded, eyes burning as he held her hands as tightly as he could. Regardless of whatever they were, she was his friend, and she deserved her life, her future. She was so pure, so good, and she should live. If murderers, pillagers, Fire Nation assholes, if they were all allowed to live, then dammit, she should be too. 

“Sokka,” She cries with a smile, like he was the one meant to be comforted here. “You’ve made these last few weeks wonderful. I never knew I could care for someone so much so quickly before. But I have and I do. If you care for me at all, let me go. I need to do this. For my people, for the world, and for myself.”

“I--” He can’t speak passed knot of unsaid words lodged in his throat. Can’t bear to watch as this wonderful woman sacrifices herself for them all but he knows he has to. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is my choice.” Yue pulls away, takes the spirit from Iroh, and pulls it close to her chest.

There’s a light and when it fades, Sokka catches a collapsing Yue. He vaguely takes note of Iroh taking the spirit, gently releasing it back into the pond. But all he can focus on is the girl in his arms, her body lifeless. He feels the tears finally leave his eyes and his hold on her tightens. “She’s gone.” He says, to himself or to the others he doesn’t know. 

He told her father that he’d protect her. In turn, she’d protected everyone else. She’s the reason the Fire Nation is forced to retreat, the reason the city still stands, that his sister is even still able to bend. He owes her his life. They all do. 

It’s only till the dust has settled that he realizes the prince and his uncle have disappeared. In a panic he didn’t know he could feel, he immediately checks the soulmarks he can immediately see. His shoulders sag when he sees that they’re still there. Whether it means no one else was lost today, they’re still there, or because they’re not wilted, he isn’t sure. 

By the time they finally pack up and leave the Northern Water Tribe, he’s more than ready for a new scenery. All he knows is that what happened during the invasion is far from acceptable. Between the newly reached madness from the Fire Nation or from innocent people dying or even good people sacrificing themselves, the world is in chaos. It has been for a long time and the magnitude of how much is resting on their shoulders finally catches up. It leaves him staggering and struggling to breathe and its only Katara that walks him through it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, I love all of you? Because I do. I already loved this story but to know it's loved so much by y'all as well just amplifies my excitement in sharing it. This was originally meant to be split up but I decided against it. And again, my update schedule is nonexistent. So don't always expect updates every day or even multiple times a day. Tell me what you think of the chapter! These comments are literally making my day and I love each and every one of them.


	5. find a new path, you've gone astray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko alone but revamped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied rape of a side character. It's just the two paragraphs after "You're not alone, Lee." but please take care of yourself and skip it if you need to. There's also a discussion about domestic abuse too later in the chapter.

Azula always lies. He knows this. The only time she doesn’t is when the truth will hurt even more. So he should’ve known when she hunted him and their uncle down. Her spiel about family should’ve been the first clue. Not once did she say something caustic.

He’d listened to her words, the third anniversary of his banishment hanging over his head, and he took everything at face value like a desperate fool. His father didn’t want him home, he wanted him in a prison cell, shoved out of the light in hopes that Zuko wouldn’t embarrass the family anymore. Iroh was officially hailed as a traitor due to his role in the North Pole and Zuko was seen as an accomplice to it all with his repeated failures to capture the Avatar. 

They were fugitives and that meant things had changed and they changed fast. Zuko was forced to let go of his honor, his homeland, and who he was. He used the pearl-handled dagger Iroh had gifted to him a lifetime ago and cut off his top-knot, handing the blade to his uncle so he could do the same. For the first time in three years, he allowed his hair to grow out and tried not to mourn who he used to be and what he used to have.

* * *

Zuko had traveled the world. His search for the Avatar brought him to lands he once thought he’d never see. Before, he’d had tunnel vision, and while he saw the land, he never saw the people. They either served no purpose, were an obstacle, or led him closer to the Avatar. As a refugee traveling the Earth Kingdom, he finally began to see the people.

Song was kinder than most and she helped them, free of charge. He knew she saw through their lies but she didn’t call them out on it. Instead, she invited them to dinner with her and her mother, and even offered them a place to rest their heads for the night. Despite how pale they were and the gold in their eyes, they weren’t treated like enemies. They were treated like people and it had been a long, long time since Zuko had felt like that. 

After dinner, the first actual meal Zuko was able to have in the last few days, he had to escape the house. The air was too familial inside and it choked him, reminding him of simpler times on beaches, always away from the capital. He wanted to be alone, wanted time to get used to this new person he was supposed to be.

Of course, Song followed him out, offering a smile like a peace treaty. She took a seat next to him but she offered him his silence. Offered support but only if it was wanted and he was hesitant to take it, to learn to rely on it, when it would eventually be taken away. 

“Why did you help us?” He finds himself asking, being the first to break the silence much to his own surprise. 

She doesn’t seem taken aback by the question. If anything, she finds it amusing, and her smile only grows. “Because I had the ability to. It was the right thing to do.”

It sounds like something his uncle would say. Something someone _good_ would answer with. “But you have no idea who we are.” It’s probably not the best thing to convince her to be suspicious of them. They didn’t need any more attention than what they already had.

“And you didn’t know who I was. I could’ve been luring you to your murder.” She counters. 

He feels himself smile despite himself. “Fair enough.”

Song sighs and he watches her smile fall. “We’ve lost a lot to this war. It seems like you have, too.” She raises her hand and he immediately tenses, seeing the way her eyes lock onto his scar. But it seems like she thinks twice about and sets it back in her lap. “The Fire Nation has hurt you. But you’re not alone, Lee.”

She shifts, pulling her skirts up her legs and over her thighs. Zuko almost snaps at her to ask what she thinks she’s doing. That she doesn’t know who he is, what type of person he is, and doing something like that could get her hurt if he were someone else. But then he sees it, sees the scars around her thighs. They look like handprints. The worst scar, the most vivid one against her complexion, almost hides a wilted soulmark. The only one he’s seen on her so far. Maybe even the only one she has. 

His stomach twists and turns at the sight. She implied the Fire Nation did this. That someone did this savagery in the name of Zuko’s own nation. He looks back up to her eyes and her smile is wobbly. “We’ve survived though, haven’t we? But we can only do that together.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He says, only to please her, because while he may be tactless at times, he is not heartless. That’s been proven time and time again and for once, he doesn’t think that useless thing in his chest is a burden. Even though it hurts for her, hurts for the pain she’s endured at the hands of his people. 

When they leave her and her mother, he sees the ostrich horse, and he knows he shouldn’t. It’s wrong but if anyone were to forgive him for it, maybe it would be her. It leaves him with a pit in his stomach but that’s a familiar feeling after everything he’s done. 

* * *

The number of those hurt by the Fire Nation grows as Zuko and Iroh meet new people. They try to keep to themselves and interact as little as possible with others, knowing how unsafe it was to cause any attention. But some things can’t be helped. Each and every person had a story to tell, be it with their words, scars, or wilted soulflowers. 

There were some people though that Zuko wouldn’t mind hurting himself. Like the kind that made his uncle dance for his dinner. The kind that tried to mug them in back alleys. The kind that tried to steal from them. Zuko would have gladly put them in their place but Iroh held him back. Told him that they were refugees now and they couldn’t do things to jeopardize that narrative. It meant no firebending, especially in cities, even when they were alone. It meant dancing and singing with a smile while some asshole threatened them all for a gold coin. 

No one could blame Zuko for finally giving in to his instincts and fishing out his mask from his bags. A mask that Iroh had to have seen by now but made no mention of it. Zuko was perfectly content in not mentioning certain things, in pretending as if the issue didn’t even exist. If anyone were to ask, and someone had, he didn’t know about any Blue Spirit. He’s pretty certain his uncle would say the same. 

“What an extravagant tea set,” Iroh remarked upon seeing it. “You must have made a lot of money to afford something of such good craftsmanship.” 

Zuko hadn’t made even a copper coin. He’d stolen it from the store that had kicked his uncle out just yesterday. Apparently, Iroh looked too poor to really afford anything. The shop’s owner had said it with a glare and a twisted smirk, clearly enjoying the spectacle he made. The last Zuko saw, the man hadn’t been so pleased with himself. In fact, he’d soiled his pants at the sight of the Blue Spirit. He didn’t know why. The Blue Spirit was just a legend, after all. Maybe he’d gone crazy in that store all by himself.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

Iroh hums lowly, holding the teapot in the morning rays. “Truthfully, nephew, what holds the tea hardly matters but what is put into making it.” Then he looks away and turns his attention to the young boy. The look in his eyes makes Zuko think he might actually address it and say what they both know. He doesn’t. Instead, he makes tea but it’s with his old set. 

It’s a message, one Zuko can clearly see but finds too blurry to read. By the evening, he says his goodbyes, and sets out on his own. It’s better this way. He has things he needs to figure out on his own. He doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore, what he should be doing, or where he should be going. It feels like chasing the Avatar is all he’s ever known but he knows that’s a lie. To give that up would be giving up his chance to return home. Who was he if he wasn’t heir to the throne? Who was Zuko if he couldn’t be Fire Nation anymore and no nation would ever truly welcome him? 

He didn’t know and for some reason, he felt like doing this, going his own way, might help with that.

* * *

The first thing he learned on his own was how approachable Iroh was. The only reason this was even something he realized was because of how many people actively avoided him when he was alone. When he was with his uncle, strangers were known to come up and begin a conversation. It was a perk, even if it meant fewer hand-outs, but he despised those to begin with.

He did meet a young boy, though. With bright wide eyes and determination written into his bones, he reminded Zuko of his past. He brought Zuko home like a bearded cat and presented him before his parents like he’d found something spectacular. All because Zuko hadn’t ratted him out to the those big brutish Earth Kingdom soldiers that seemed to rule over the village. 

The family was so different from what Zuko knew. There were two parents and a child but it was the dynamics that confused him. The father, Gansu, took him aside to assist in some of the repairs needed around the farm. He was patient and when Zuko messed up, he didn’t get angry. He calmly explained what the issue was and helped him correct it. He reminded Zuko of his uncle more than anything. He didn’t press for information and as long as Zuko did his fair share, it didn’t matter who he was. 

Sela, the mother, prepared dinner and even asked if he wanted to help. Even though his arms hurt and his shoulders protested any movement, he did, because it was the respectable thing to do. They were feeding him and housing him for a couple of nights, after all. It wasn’t until the second night that she began to pry. But it wasn’t the way Azula did. She was just genuinely curious, genuinely kind. 

“Have you met your soulmate yet?” She questions. It’s a standard question, one that is far more common here than in the Fire Nation, and he manages to not break the bowl in his hands. He’s been asked more than a few times at this point.

“Yes.” It’s all he says on the matter, cut and dry, but the message is clear. It isn’t a topic he enjoys.

She doesn’t bristle as some have in the past, as he would have. Instead, she shrugs and pulls her sleeve up. It’s there, around her bicep, that he sees her soulmarks for the first time. They’re wilted but he can make out the faded yellow in them. “I was married to mine, you know. And by the time he passed away, I was grateful.”

He tenses at the statement, setting down the bowl. “How come?”

“He wasn’t a kind man. Not after he came back from the battlefield and took up drinkin’. He drank himself to death, you know. Left me alone with a son and some dead flowers.” She chuckles to herself and he can appreciate the bitterness in it. She goes back to cutting up vegetables but she isn’t done with her story, apparently. “Everyone kept giving their condolences and I felt guilty because it meant me and my boy weren’t hurting anymore. And a few months later, I met Gansu. I realized something the day I realized I loved him. Do you know what it was?”

“What was it?” He has to force the words out his mouth, so tense even his jaw muscles begin to ache. 

Sela smiles at him from over her shoulder. “I realized that if the spirits made us, they clearly made some mistakes along the way. If they can fuck us up that badly, then they can get soulmates wrong too. We may not always choose who we love but we can choose our happy ending. I chose my happy ending to be with Gansu and the family we have together.”

Zuko mulls it over in his head. He goes back to cleaning the bowl and lets the silence cover over them until he finds the right words to say. “Why tell me this?” 

“Because you look like a man who’s getting too used to running. I don’t know if it’s from your soulmate, your family, the war, or even yourself. And frankly, it’s none of my business. But if I can help, if I can offer some advice, it’s that no one controls your destiny. Certainly not the spirits, that’s for sure. Best you can do is live your life and lay down in whatever bed you make.” She answers, sounding so much like his uncle. He thinks if they were to ever meet, they’d become frighteningly fast friends. 

But she’s right. He’s running. Running from everything she guessed he was, from his soulmate, his family, the war, and himself. He had to stop running, at least when he had no destination in mind. It was time for him to go back to his roots and try again. 

The last day he’s there, he finds Lee playing with his dagger. It brings him back again, to the days he’d leap to and fro, pretending he was attacking enemies and saving the day. Lee’s almost in tears to apologize but Zuko brushes it off. Instead of lashing out, he shows him how to hold the blade and actually put it to use. He figures the few pointers and the blade itself are a worthy parting gift.

Or at least, it would have been if Sela hadn’t tracked him down and begged him to come back. “Please. I know I’m not family but I don’t know what else to do! I can’t lose him too.”

So he goes back and he tries to fight like he’s someone else. Just like he’s been trying to convince everyone else. But the truth is he’s tired of running and denying who he is, whoever that may be. All he knows is he has a name, an identity, and he knows the parts those things include. He has the formula, he’s just lacking the answer. 

When he gets back up from the fight, he’s more certain than he has been in a while. The flames speak to him and he wields them as Iroh always taught. And when the man hits the ground, he hits the ground hard. He looks out at the villagers that had rooted for him, cheering for him to win, had even helped him these past few days. Now, they look on with fear and disgust, and he forces on a brave face.

Sela, the woman who resembles both of the best two people who raised him, his uncle and mother, looks at him with vitriol clouding her eyes. “Who are you?” She spits it out and he knows that she resents having not asked before. 

This time, he isn’t mute, and he doesn’t lie. He looks her directly in the eyes and tries not to cringe from the tears that fall from Lee’s eyes. “I am Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. Crowned prince and heir to the throne.” When he says it, it doesn’t hold the glory it once did. He’s seen too much.

An old man, one who had been cheering the loudest, scoffs. “Liar! I’ve heard about you! You’re no prince! Your own father burned you! Even your soulmate thinks you’re a soulless monster!”

Zuko flinches back, lowing his gaze to the ground, where he sees the fallen dagger. He walks forward, offering it to the crying boy, but Sela is quick to pull him behind her. As if Lee needs to be shielded away from him. “Don’t you dare.” She pauses, swallowing thickly, and Zuko takes a step back, finally seeing the beast reflected in her eyes. “You’re just another mistake from the spirits. So don’t you dare let me see you near me or my family. Ever again.”

He turns on his heels at that and heads back to his stolen ostrich horse. He leaves, taking his dagger with him but leaving his ignorance about himself back at that farm. He went searching for answers for who he was and he found them. Agni himself, he found them.

* * *

He tracks down his uncle and the circumstances are stranger than he would have ever guessed. He finds Iroh with his sister, the Avatar, the Watertribe siblings, and a young girl he’s fairly certain is blind. He even gets dragged into the fight, fighting side by side with his soulmate for once. And it’s actually not going terribly. 

That is, before Azula shows herself and attacks with lightning. He watches as Iroh goes down with a shout and all he can see is his mother walking out those doors. He’s barely aware of the fact he attacks along with the others or that she even disappears. Lucky just as always. 

“No, Uncle!” He races to the man’s side, frantic and hands shaking. The man groans at being moved and he quickly pulls away, almost doubled over as his mind goes blank. He tries to think of what to do but he can’t. It’s like his mind has shut off just when he needs it most. He’s running off pure panic and he can’t do anything! Useless! That’s all he ever is! And Uncle is going to die and it’ll be because of him! Because he can’t be better!

“Zuko,” The waterbender calls. 

“Go away!” He shouts because they’re the enemy, right? Why would they help? What could they possibly do except cause more pain?

“I can help him!” She cries out, stepping closer.

He lets out a cry of his own, throwing his hand back, because why can’t they just listen? No one ever listens to him! “Get away from him!” He shouts, throwing a wall of fire their way.

He thinks they might finally leave, finally get the hint. He hears them step back and he puts his attention back on his injured uncle. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder, hold so tight that he can’t really react with fire. When he looks up, he sees the boy that mirrors his scar. The boy that he’s done nothing but hurt and be a burden to. “Enough. Let Katara heal him.”

For some reason, Zuko listens. He sits on his hands, not trusting how unsteady they seem, and doesn’t shake his soulmate’s hold. In fact, he leans into it, watching as the recently trained waterbender uses the water she’d weaponized to heal his uncle’s injury. It doesn’t take long and when she’s done, the burn is less horrific looking. 

“He’ll be fine but that’s all I’m able to do for now. At least in one session.” She tells him, no venom in her voice for once.

“Thank you.” He chokes out.

His soulmate pulls away and he scolds himself for leaning back even further, as if chasing after the comfort. “We should get going.”

“Take care of your uncle!” The small girl, who’s name he failed to remember, calls out as they climb onto the back of the Avatar’s bison. 

As they fly away, the monk gives him a tentative smile. Once they’re gone, Zuko manages to get his brain back online, and he quickly finds them shelter. He doubts his sister will come back but he can never be too safe. 

* * *

Getting to Ba Sing Se is a challenge. By the time they even get to the ferry that’s supposed to take them to the city, Iroh is mostly healed, and Zuko has a new soulmark blossoming against the side of his calf. He wonders if it’s his sister that caused it or something else. It had come in slowly so it couldn’t have been too serious. 

His train of thought ends there, though. He takes a sip of the broth they’d served for dinner on the ferry and he immediately spits it out. “Ugh! I hate this! I am so sick and tired of living like this!”

His uncle goes to say something, probably some veiled proverb, but another teen beats him to it. “If that’s the case, maybe I can help,” He offers, eyes locked onto Zuko’s scar as he smirks. “I hear the captain eats like a king and we get his table scraps. You wanna help me, uh, liberate, some food?”

Zuko looks around at the other refugees. They’re just as starved and Zuko wasn’t exaggerating. He really is done living like this. So he nods and tenses at the way the other boy sizes him up. He knows he can take him, even without bending, but he will remember to keep an eye on the boy. “I’m ready when you are.”

At that, the other teen’s eyes light up. He pulls the wheat from his lips and offers his free hand. “I’m Jet. Those two are Smellerbee and Longshot.”

He can easily tell they’re soulmates, the shorter one wearing the scars on her cheeks like a statement and the taller one having them mirrored as tall green blooms. “I’m Lee and that’s my uncle Mushi.” He introduces, shaking the other’s hand. 

Jet smirks, a dimple in his cheek, and he puts the wheat back between his lips with a wink. “Nice meeting ya, Lee.”

He narrows his eyes, wondering at the taunt, and puts his worries into planning the heist. They take the cooked meat, the many bowls of rice, and even the platters full of fruits. Jet tosses him the bottle of mead with another wink and he adds it to the bag. When they show back up to the common area and serve out what they can, Zuko eats his first decent meal in days, not even bothering to pay much attention to the conversation.

“I get that. I’m working on being better now. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past but I’m hoping this can serve as a new start, a second chance.” Jet says, officially causing Zuko to tune back in. 

He can respect the sentiments. And so can his uncle, if the small nod his way is anything to go by. “I believe everyone deserves a second chance if they truly mean it.”

* * *

On the last day on the ferry, Jet seeks him out, the two of them alone in the dark of the night. “As soon as I saw you, I knew what you were,” He says in lieu of a greeting, effectively making Zuko tense all over. “You’re an outcast, like me.”

He sighs, feeling like ten years have been shaved off his life. “Really?” 

“Yeah. You know how to fend for yourself because no one else will do it for you. And you’ve been screwed over just as much by the world as I’ve been.” He continues, crowding closer. 

Zuko can’t fault him for the analysis. He pretty much hit the nail on the head with that one. Still, he reaches up and feels the edges of his scar. “It’s not that hard to tell life has been tough for me.”

If he allows himself, he can see the similarities though. Both angry and hurt by the world balancing on a precipice of change. The issue is that if Zuko were to meet himself, he wouldn’t exactly trust him, so he applies the same to Jet now. It doesn’t matter how charming he might try to be or how many times he says the right things at the right times, he’s in the same precarious position as Zuko is. They’re both outcasts and for good reasons. 

“Maybe the fight is clear but I can see the resilience just as easily in your eyes. I can see you, Lee. Easier than most people, I’m betting.” He lowly says, wheat stick rolling between his fingertips. He catches Zuko’s eyes and he doesn’t look away, only leans in closer. 

He places a hand against his cheek, right beneath the scar, and its only the railing of the ferry that keeps him from jumping away. He’s tense when Jet chastely kisses him, suddenly realizing the looks and the secretive smiles. He pulls away if only to stare in confusion. Because no one has ever wanted Zuko. Period. Especially not for this, not with his scar and general personality acting like a deterrent. And his soulmate had certainly never seemed interested even though Zuko responded with equal coldness. 

No one had ever wanted Zuko until now. And maybe that’s the driving force. Maybe its Sela in the back of his mind, even though she probably wishes him dead now. Whatever it is, Zuko reaches forward and brings Jet back to him, his lips uncertain but seeking. 

Jet takes control easily and he smirks against the kiss once it deepens. Its intensity makes it hard to breathe but Zuko has a sudden longing for more. He knows his movements are clumsy but Jet guides him in a way that speaks of experience. 

It’s only when hands seek his waist that he allows himself to breathe. He allows himself common sense as well and when he does, his brain immediately screeches to a halt. Zuko pulls away, just as he always does, and tries to will away the redness creeping up his neck. Jet’s skilled lips follow after him and he only stops when he realizes how tense the smaller boy has become. 

“What’s wrong?” He breaths out, still leaning closer so that he speaks directly in Zuko’s good ear. 

And Zuko is not one to lie in order to spare someone’s feelings, at least not anymore, so he’s honest when he answers. “Too much too fast.”

Jet just chuckles and it vibrates against Zuko’s chest, sending a shiver down his spine. “Alright, okay.”

So he pulls away ever so slowly. His lips are swollen and redder than they were but he’s not flushed like Zuko knows he is. “Thanks.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Jet just leans next to him against the railing, their shoulders and hips brushing. “You know, when we get settled in Ba Sing Se, you should join us. I think we could benefit with someone like you.”

“No thanks.” He answers flatly. He only has one thing planned for Ba Sing Se and that’s to settle down with his uncle. At least for the meantime. Nowhere in that plan does Jet and his little Freedom Fighters fit into that. Besides, he can’t afford to get close to anyone like that. Sooner or later, it would blow up in his face, as everything always eventually does. 

Jet doesn’t take it personally though. He just shrugs and somehow another piece of wheat ends up between his lips. Zuko has to force himself not to think further on that matter. 

* * *

The last he sees of Jet is the teen being carted away after a fight. No one ever reacts well to finding out who he is. Spirits be damned, Jet hadn’t even known anything more than he and his uncle were firebenders. He feared to know what would have happened had he known the full truth. 

It still doesn’t stop the sting that he feels. He didn’t even like Jet in any romantic sense. He knew enough about himself to know that much. Anything he might have felt was purely physical and respect driven. Because despite how opposed Jet was to him now, he hadn’t been wrong that day they met. They had been alike in ways many other people probably wouldn’t understand. 

They took their hurt and twisted into anger to shield themselves. Zuko knows that now. But he puts it all to the back of his mind, focusing on the relief of keeping the job that Iroh had found for them.

* * *

After weeks of being a waiter at this dreadful tea shop, Zuko knew the ends and the outs of the job. So when the door’s bell chimes, he rolls his eyes as he goes to greet the customer. It’s a slow day and he’d thought it would mean little work. Of course, that can’t be the case, can it?

“Welcome to the Pao Family Tea House. Please feel free to sit wherever and I’ll be with you so--” He stops.

The customer, it turns out, is not just anyone. Before him stands an equally confused, but not nearly as stunned as he should be, soulmate. Sokka raises his hand and gives a weak wave. “Hey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavy start of the chapter, I know. As for the heavy stuff, please let me know if you think I should include them in the tags. I wasn't sure since it's only mentioned in a paragraph each and none of it is graphic. 
> 
> This chapter was hard at times. idk. I think some of it just didn't turn out how I wanted. But that's the closest we're getting to cannon and from here on out, things should start to look a little different. 
> 
> I love the support this story is getting and even though I feel this chapter is a little blah, hopefully, y'all enjoy it. I am living on nothing but these comments and I cannot express how happy they are making me! Take care of yourselves and others and I'll see you either in the comments or for the next update!


	6. rip open my ribcage and set me on display

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer but it got to the point I just decided to split it up into two parts. Get ready for the fluff.

So far the only thing Sokka found he liked in Ba Sing Se, besides the food, was the poetry. And yet even that was ruined by his pride, his backside still hurting from his fall. It was just one extra syllable! Didn’t mean they had to kick him out in his ass without a second glance. 

Sokka hadn’t made it far when one of the girls came running up to him. He recognized her from the giggling group, her hair done up the same as theirs and her robes almost the same shade as theirs too. It gave him a bad taste of Jodi in his mouth but he chalked it up to the too-tall standards of the poetry parlor. 

“Wait!” She called out, her heels clacking as she rushed to his side.

He grinned to himself, once again blessing his Water Tribe genetics. People couldn’t get enough of Sokka and he couldn’t blame them either. “What can I do for ya?”

She finally caught up, huffing a little as she stared at the side of his face. “Have you met your soulmate?”

Okay, maybe upper-class didn’t always mean more manners. He’d heard the question before, it was common enough, but never so tactlessly. And that was coming from him! Who traveled with even less tactful people! “Why do you ask?”

“Do you know where he is?” She questions next and he almost sighs. Almost. 

But then he replays it in his mind and frowns at what he finds. “I didn’t say it was a he.”

Instead of seeming caught or even embarrassed for giving herself away, she just starts giggling as she had inside. “I’m sorry. I know how rude it is to meddle in the business of soulmates but I couldn’t help myself!”

He hears about a tea shop run by an old man and served by a scarred teenager. Uncle and nephew, apparently. She tells him where it is and Sokka finds himself following her directions without meaning to. Just to get a glimpse. Just to make sure they’re not secretly plotting against them. 

That’s all. And possibly so he can get a glimpse at the jerkbending prince in an apron. That’d certainly be a worthy sight, seeing him knocked down by humility in such a way. 

When he reaches the Pao Family Tea House, he holds his breath as he opens the door. He doesn’t know if he’s expecting there to be a blast of fire aimed right at him or immediate screaming or even to see them torturing someone for information on the Avatar. But he’s at least expecting something big and mind-blowing. 

It’s a lackluster entrance. The bell over the door rings out and the sitting area is mostly empty except for an elderly couple, a woman in the corner, and a group of three adults. It’s nice though. Especially for the Lower Ring. 

No prince in sight. No fire. No one being tortured for information. Not even a dragon. It makes the fight flush from his system and it leaves him with an aftertaste of disappointment. 

A door to the kitchen swings open, revealing a thin boy in dark green robes and a grown-out buzz cut. He’s too focused on the platter balanced in his arms, though, and doesn’t look up immediately. 

From this side, Sokka almost misses the scar. He’s changed, even from just a couple of months ago, but in the best possible way. He isn’t as skinny as he was in that abandoned village and healthy is a good look on him. He looks so different like this that it almost convinces Sokka this is a different boy. 

“Welcome to the Pao Family Tea House. Please feel free to sit wherever and I’ll be with you so--” He turns and it reveals his scar, shattering the momentary illusion Sokka had allowed himself. 

He’s stock-still, mouth still hanging open, and it’s enough to catch the attention of the rest of the shop. With Zuko’s scar and his matching soulmark, they probably look like soulmates meeting for the first time. He thinks that would’ve been a nicer reality. 

But he offers a weak wave and a weaker smile in hopes to snap him out of it. “Hey.”

It seems to work more than he wanted and the platter of teacups and the pot of hot water crash to the floor. Zuko manages to step back before the hot water scalds him which is a relief, considering Sokka would hate to be the indirect cause of his own soulmark. But that’s all the movement he seems to be capable of, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. 

“Is everything alright, nephew?” The old guy asks as he leaves the kitchen, eyes wide and concerned. He takes one look at Sokka and he chuckles, quickly grabbing the two of them by the arm and guiding them to the back room. “I’ll clean this up. I think it’s best the two of you talk privately, yes?”

“Thank you, uncle.” The prince finally manages to say, refusing to take his eyes off Sokka. 

Sokka just nods, feeling far too underprepared for this. They’re deposited in the kitchen and then the uncle leaves. He realizes that this is the first time he’s ever been left alone with Zuko and it’s enough of a startling realization that gets him to say something. “What, uh, what are you doing? Here? In Ba Sing Se? Or well, specifically _here_? Serving tea of all things? You being here in Ba Sing Se doesn’t surprise me as much considering you chased us everywhere else but I don’t think you do that anymore. Do you?”

He slowly blinks a couple of times and then the jerk Sokka knows and loves, well, not knows and love. Technically, he does know him, knows enough at least. But he doesn’t love him. He doesn’t know enough about him to even love him. And the things he does don’t make him a good contender for a lover. Honestly, he doesn’t even like him. Isn’t even around him enough to say he tolerates him, either. So the jerk Sokka knows, relatively speaking, comes back to life with an eye roll and a sigh. “Stop talking.”

Which, fair. He probably needs to stop thinking while he’s at it. “Sorry. I’m just surprised. You know, seeing my soulmate in the city I’ve been staying in for like a month now!”

Then they both pause. Because answering all the questions have been one thing. Seeing the soulmarks and the evident bond between them is jammed into that as well. But never once, even to others, have either of them willingly and actively referred to each other as such. Sokka can’t imagine how people do this, especially so freely. How Aang and his sister can even look each other in the eyes, open and far healthier than Sokka and Zuko, and even stand in the same vicinity is astounding. He doesn’t think he can do it. Even Toph handled meeting her soulmate better than he handled running into his on a semi-regular basis. 

His only excuse is who his soulmate is. He didn’t get strong and determined Suki with the most calming smile. He got the jerkbender with the spirits awful ponytail. But that’s not there anymore and it makes him look younger. It makes his features less sharp and harsh and makes them almost gentle. He kind of misses the ponytail. 

That’s a lie. He should’ve cut it off the first chance he got. The fact that it even existed for as long as it did is a crime against all hairs. 

But the issue still stands. It’s something that can’t go away. He looks at the scar that defines so much of his life, the scar that isn’t even his, and sighs in the somberness that hangs over them. “What are you doing here? Are you after Aang again?”

“No. My uncle and I are refugees here. I didn’t even know the Avatar was in the city.” He answers, crossing his arms and looking like he’s preparing to go on the defense. “Are you planning to run back and tell everyone?”

Sokka thinks about it, imagines what their reactions would be. Then he imagines Zuko’s reaction. Can picture the resigned panic perfectly as he runs off into the dark of the night with his uncle. If they are caught, what would the Earth Kingdom even do? He’s gotten a glimpse of how they handle the world and it’s by brushing it all under the rug. Would that happen for the Fire Nation royals? Or would they make it a grand event, maybe even throw a banquet, as they publicly execute them? “No. Not as long as you keep out of trouble, I guess.”

“Why not?” Zuko snaps, no thank-you, no offer in return, just barred teeth and suspicious eyes. “It’d be the smart thing to do. We might be more trouble than we’re worth.”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t be the right thing to do.” He can give it just as much as he can take it and Zuko would do well to remember that. He can cross his arms too and be all broody just to look bigger. It wasn’t that hard to do. “I mean, you’re not hurting anyone here. Your serving tea.”

“But I have. In the past.” He argues. 

Sokka can’t help but laugh, truly in disbelief because of the royal pain in his ass. “I can’t believe this. Are you actually trying to _convince_ me to turn you in?”

He bristles and it reminds him of old times. Not this new, not-prince refugee that he’s become. “I am trying to figure out your logic here because on all accounts, its what you _should_ do!”

“And?! Do you know how many things I should have done but didn’t?! Spoiler alert, princess, you’re on it!” Sokka points out, raising his voice only to meet the volume of Zuko’s. He flushes at his words and rushes to clarify. “You know what I mean! So don’t you dare stand there and tell me what I _should_ do because you do _not_ want to go there, buddy!”

“What? You think I don’t know it already? That I just do what I want without thinking it through?! I’m not you!” He bites back, vicious and merciless like the best of flames. 

Sokka lets his bitterness coat his laugh, taking a step closer. It seems someone’s defensive state has changed. “Luckily for you, right?! Instead, you get to be the son of a murderer! How fun is that?!” 

“Wh--” He stops himself and Sokka wants to scream. 

He wants this fight and it’s not fair. Zuko has ruined so much for him and he will not ruin this too. “What? Did I say something I _shouldn’t_ have? Or did your uncle actually manage to teach you basic respect for others?!”

Something shutters behind his eyes and before Sokka knows it, Zuko is up close and personal. He shoves him, hard, and Sokka barely manages to steady himself. “Don’t you ever shut the fuck up?! No one wants to hear what a snow savage has to say!”

“Is that supposed to offend me?! I’d take being a savage any day over being the product of monsters! I’m proud of my heritage! They didn’t commit a spirits damned _genocide_!” He shoves back, feeling the heat of Zuko’s anger in the air around him. “You wanna talk about you should and shouldn’t do?! Maybe, just maybe, your ash making country _should_ be decent people and not try and burn down the fucking world!

With a shout, Zuko pushes him against the counter, fists faintly glowing from the heat of them. “You know _nothing_ of my people!”

“And you know nothing of mine.” Sokka retorts in the same breath.

Neither says a word after that. Sokka feels too crowded, too warm, but he doesn’t push the other teen away. He reminds himself to breathe and he tries his best to shake the heated anger off. He hadn’t come to fight. He truly doesn’t know why he came but this wasn’t it. And when he looks at the boy he’d been ready to strangle just a few short moments ago, he sees someone entirely too human. Once again, he finds himself missing that abhorred ponytail and obnoxious armor. It was easier to see Zuko as the enemy then. This was easier to ignore then.

His pale cheeks are flushed with rage, his eyes burning with a dying fight. Even with the scar, Sokka can see how pretty he is. Objectively, of course. But he can’t help but note how his lips are pinker than his cheeks. Plumper, too. 

Yep, right. It was time to leave. Before he did something stupid like start another fight, deck the guy, or worse. “I think I should go.”

Zuko nods and steps away to allow him that. 

He goes to leave but stops himself for just one last word. “I won’t, by the way. Tell them. Just try and not to start anything.”

Sokka sees his eyes roll and he snickers to himself. That could’ve gone better but compared to their other run-ins, it wasn’t half bad. He definitely seems calmer, that’s for certain. Had his temper been what it used to be, the entire tea shop would’ve been burning down. And the neighboring buildings just for good measure. 

* * *

He should be with his friends, he knows that. And he has been, for the last few days even. But like a lovesick polar bear-dog, he’d come running back for just a glimpse at the prince. He told himself it was to just make sure the other boy was keeping up his end of the deal and not getting into trouble. That was all there was to it. 

Sokka had gone out of his way to even sit somehow the teen wouldn’t immediately see and when he was served, it was by the old man. He’d just winked at him, told him to call him Mushi, and gave him some of the best tea he’d ever tasted. He knew he always liked Mushi for a reason, despite his association with the worst place ever. 

It’s through his watching, not stalking, that he finds out how his soulmate might have learned to quell his anger just days before. More than once, he sees patrons of the shop try and weasel their way out of their bill or even having an attitude for no apparent reason. One old woman even tried to say she deserved a refund since her tea was so bad when Sokka had seen her drink the whole thing with a smile! But not once did Zuko flip out on them, even when he had every right to.

He still struggled to hide his emotions though. More than once, he’d try and smile to appease the customer, and ended up scaring them instead. Sokka had almost laughed at that alone but then they’d give in and Zuko would look all confused. If he wasn’t dismantled as the angry, soulless prick of a prince that terrorized them before then he definitely was now. 

After almost an hour, it seemed his luck ran out, and Zuko finally noticed him when waiting on someone near his table. As soon as he had the order, he rushed over to Sokka with a deepened frown. “What are you doing here?!”

He gave a sheepish smile, feeling far too much like a kid being caught red-handed. “Getting some… tea?”

“And you couldn’t get it anyplace else?!” He growls out lowly, careful of being overheard. 

Sokka puts his hands up, hoping the lack of weapons in them will calm the prince. Always so defensive, yeesh. “I’m not here to fight! I just…” Why _was_ he here? How could he answer Zuko when even he didn’t know the answer? “I’m not really sure why but I figured we might need to talk? You do realize that we’ve never had a one on one conversation besides the one last week, right?”

“And now is the perfect time.” He says dryly, good eyebrow crooked upwards. 

“As if I know your schedule!” He’s quick to defend, flushing when his outburst gains some attention. “Zuko, can yo--”

The other boy startles, rushing forward and slapping a hand over Sokka’s mouth. “Shut up! My name is Lee here, you idiot!”

“Lee?!” Sokka snorts, pulling away from the warm, surprisingly soft hand covering half his face. 

“What’s wrong with the name Lee?!” He exclaims, as if genuinely offended. 

That just has Sokka cackling even more. “It’s just so basic! And you look nothing like a Lee!”

“What does that even mean?” He asks, sounding like he’s dreading the answer. 

“I don’t know, you just don’t. I guess you just look like,” He pauses, watching Zuko, or Lee rather, wilt a little and look away. As if he’s expecting a harmful remark at the expense of what he looks like. Sokka sighs and chooses his words a little more carefully. “You look like _you_ to me. You know, jerkbending soulmate with a cool uncle?”

It seems to be the right thing to say and he hears his sister congratulating him in the back of his mind for being a functional person for once. His rolls his eyes but his good ear is pink and there’s a smile pulling at stubborn lips. “Uncle isn’t that cool.”

“Uh, have you met the old guy? He’s so cool!” Sokka exclaims, purposely exaggerating his arm movements as he throws them in the air. It serves its purpose though, effectively making the other boy laugh. Well, more of a huff oF amused air, but he’s absolutely counting it.

The woman’s order that Zuko had taken coughs, staring daggers at them both, and it brings them both back to earth. “I work till close tonight. But I’m off tomorrow. We can meet up here then.”

“Lunch good?” Sokka asks, pushing and shoving and all but throwing a fit to get those cursed butterflies under control in his stomach. 

“Yeah.”

Sokka leaves shortly after, staying just long enough to pay for the three teas and to leave a generous tip. Just another benefit of being with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se. At least all the tea gives him an excuse for his racing heart.

* * *

They’d met up at the Pao Family Tea House but Zuko had led them to the apartment he and his uncle were staying in. When Sokka had asked why they couldn’t just stay and have some tea, he’d flushed bright red and mumbled something about meddling old men. Sokka nodded like he understood, allowing himself to be maneuvered inside and to be sat in the dining area. 

“It’s not as good as Uncle’s tea but it’ll do in a pinch.” He says, pouring them both a cup.

Sokka takes it, glad to have something to occupy his hands. “Seems like the perfect job for him.”

“Yeah,” He shrugs and they both try and deal with the gaps between them.

Wishing the tea was something stronger, something to make this a little more bearable, Sokka forces himself to say something. Anything, really. “So, uh, you never did say why you two are here? I mean, I know the refugee part, duh. But, like, the reason behind that? Must be interesting for a prince to be a refugee.” He cringes at that last part, hating how insensitive he comes off, but knows it’ll only be worse if he were to try and backpedal.

He can see the struggle on Zuko’s face, clearly torn to answer or not. Eventually, he gives in with a sigh. “It’s not. The reason we’re refugees in the first place is because Uncle helped save the moon spirit during the invasion and it was seen as a betrayal.”

“And you? Why not just leave him here and run back home?” He wonders, considering everything he knows about his soulmate. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To go back home and bring Aang with him to give to his father? “Are you waiting until you can get to Aang?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that simple. Because I sided with Uncle, was known to have tensions with the Admiral who led the invasion, and failed to catch the Avatar, I was also labeled as a traitor. We’re fugitives back home.” 

“Oh,” And really, what more was there to say to something like that? Sokka couldn’t imagine what it was like to be cut off from his home. He may not be there now but he always knew that if he needed to, he’d be welcomed with open arms and warm smiles. “I’m surprised not everyone _didn’t_ have issues with that bag of dicks, though. What even happened to him?”

Zuko chokes on his tea and Sokka once again adds the small smile to his list of accomplishments. But then it falls and he sighs. “The ocean spirit dragged him down.”

“Oh.” Ah, hello square one, it’s been too long. “Good riddance?”

Wait, that there! That’s another smile! Maybe he hadn’t gone back to square one. Maybe he was at, like, square three. “Good riddance, if only so I don’t have to worry about him trying to kill me again.”

Sokka nearly jumps to his feet, heart lurching in his chest. The teacups clatter with their saucers and some of Zuko’s tea sloshes out onto the table. “Kill you?! When did that even happen?! Weren’t you his prince?!”

The other boy is quick to steady the table, immediately wiping up the small spill with a spare napkin. “It happened before the invasion. He tried to blow up my ship with me on it but I was far enough away from the blast to escape mostly unscathed. If you have the, uh, the soulmarks on your hip? That’s from then.”

He remembered getting it, his hip itching for well over a week before it was done forming. At the time, he tried to mostly ignore it, figured an accident must have happened. Had he known he was so close to having wilted marks, he might have felt differently then. 

The panic must show on his face though because Zuko frowns at him. “Didn’t think you’d get so upset.”

“Of course I’m upset!” He snaps, because dammit, he’s not heartless. “Say what you will about us. I know things are really, really fucked. But regardless of all of that, you’re my soulmate. For some reason, the spirits saw it fit to tie us together. And if you die?! Then we can’t figure out why!”

The scarred boy swallows thickly, lips pinched together. “Why do you care?”

He openly gapes at him, so far beyond confused it’s not even funny. “Because! Did you hear what I just said?! The whole soulmate thing?! Look, the spirits gave me you. And I just want to know why they gave me a… a--”

“Monster?” He finishes with a hollow laugh that will not and never will be included in the tally of accomplishments. 

Sokka shuts his mouth, just as he’s been asked to do from his soulmate on multiple occasions. He’d claim it was ludicrous and deny Zuko immediately if it weren’t for how close it struck to home. How many times had he asked himself that? How many times had he thought of Zuko as a monster? It wasn’t even a distant thought. He’d only begun to not have them after seeing him doubled over his uncle with violently shaking hands. It was only until the abandoned village that he even began to see Zuko as a person and not just the face of the Fire Nation. 

It’s with hesitant hands that he reaches forward, careful of scaring his soulmate away like a hurt, cornered animal. His hand is warm in Sokka’s, far warmer than any other hand he’s ever held. But he doesn’t pull away, just looks at Sokka with bated breath and eyes so open and raw that Sokka has to fight the urge to look away, his skin vibrating at being so _seen._ “No,” He begins, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’ve seen monsters and while you can be scary, you’re no monster.” 

It surprises him how much he truly means it. Zuko could have been a lot worse than he was and it’s only now that Sokka realizes how fortunate they were for that. He still made mistakes but he’s learning from them. He’s actively trying now. And no monster could look at him with such heartbreaking eyes. That much, Sokka does know. 

“Then, what?” He very carefully keeps unsaid words close to his chest and Sokka almost resents him for it. He wants to hear them, wants a closer view of what goes on inside his mind, and why he ticks the way he does. 

Sokka focuses on the hand he’s allowed to hold, at least for right now, and his thumb caresses the back of it as he thinks. “I don’t know. Not yet. But I’d like your help maybe figuring it out?”

A shuddered breath escapes the other boy and his long, elegant fingers grasp at Sokka’s almost instinctively. “I suppose. If you’re certain.”

Sokka hadn’t known he was holding his breath until that moment, allowing himself to breathe as relief floods him. “I wish I could say that I am but you make me the most uncertain person on earth.” He tries to joke but it comes out a little too truthful. 

Slowly, Zuko pulls his hand away, and for the first time, they have a conversation. There’s no screaming, no shoving, and no fire. It’s proper and normal and Sokka, for the first time ever regarding soulmates, doesn’t think the entire idea of them is entirely too far fetched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the number of chapters is growing. I blame the dumb boys. Hopefully, Sokka isn't too OOC. In the show, I love him, but a lot of the times he's kind of reduced to the comedic relief. He's a little more grown-up here, a little more serious, but I hope you still like him. Also, yes, Suki and Toph are soulmates! That'll be addressed a little bit more later on or possibly in a separate oneshot. We'll see. I've got a few people who I wanna write. Like Lu Ten and his soulmate. Or Sela and her's. 
> 
> As for the support and the comments, I cannot express my gratitude enough. I know I've already said it, especially in the comments, but from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I usually keep all my writings to myself and I'm so happy and relieved. Ngl, I was real worried about it coming off as too cliche or my writing not properly doing this story justice. Thanks to everyone, I feel a little more confident that I can. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, the next chapter features even more fluff and it'll probably be out tomorrow.


	7. my heart only knows your name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumb boys are dumb and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a day later than I expected but it's here! Also, warning for very light sexual content? It's more wholesome than sexual but still. For this fic, I imagine at this point, Sokka is 16 and Zuko is 17.

Sokka was a long-gone, smitten fool. He’d thought it was bad in the North Pole but this was much worse, to his expected surprise. There were days he walked to the Lower Ring to just get a glimpse and a few short words from Zuko. He’d nurse a cup of tea for far too long, watching the once prince buzz around the busy Tea House taking orders and serving the patrons. And when he had to take his leave, it was with a heavy sigh and a heavier heart. 

He was fairly certain the others knew something was going on. Something other than his slowly forming tea addiction, that is. Soon enough, he’d end up like Iroh, spouting the benefits of tea leaves to anyone who would listen. He was even beginning to be able to identify different teas and how they helped the body. 

But his new little tea quirks were well worth it to have the scarred teen in his sights. Especially on the days he had off, which allowed for their conversations to be less stifling and proper as they tended to be inside the Tea House. 

If there was something Sokka learned out of all of this, it’s his soulmate’s apparent aversion to any and all public displays of affection. Their clear status as soulmates was even too much sometimes, causing them to be holed up inside the shoddy apartment for the better half of the day. 

Sokka had never been a fan of silence. He found it too suffocating and his brain used it to create impossible scenarios that only proved to be anxiety-inducing. And then he’d start to worry if he was the only one going crazy in the silence which would serve as extra fuel to go, well, crazy in the silence. 

All that being said, Sokka found that he liked the silence around Zuko. Instead of sparking what-ifs, it allowed a moment of peace in his head. He actually managed to focus his attention and finally put in the effort to the new missing posters looking for Appa. And while he drew portrait after portrait of the flying bison once more, remembering to include basic information and even contact information, he kept half of his attention divided to just keep watch over Zuko. 

He sat on the other end of the couch, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he read through a variety of scrolls. If Sokka were to guess what they were about, he’d say politics. You can take the Prince out of the Fire Nation but you can’t take the Prince out of the Prince. Or something of that nature. 

It also seemed Sokka wasn’t quite so smooth as he believed because said Prince met his gaze, effectively catching him staring. “What is it?” He asks, rough and gruff, like something has to be the matter for Sokka to want to look at him. 

“Nothing!” He practically squeaks, his reasoning still causing him to flush. 

He quickly turns back to the posters. They’re the third stack he’s worked on and Aang was adamant on needing even more. The only benefit it seems to have is making Sokka better at illustrating Appa. But with having gained Zuko’s attention, he also brings it to the missing posters. 

“You still can’t find any leads?” He asks, glancing over Sokka’s shoulder. 

He tries to not get too weird with the subject. But mentioning his sister or friends, especially Aang, always leaves the air a little tense. “Not yet. And all the missing posters keep getting taken down.”

“I could keep an ear to the ground. People talk freely at Pao’s Tea House.” Zuko offers, eyes darting away and lip caught between his teeth once more. No wonder it was bitten raw all the time.

It’s only his hesitance that eases Sokka. Hesitance that he might have overlooked if he didn’t dedicate his time to watching the other boy so much. “Yeah. That’d actually help a lot.”

Zuko gives himself a small nod with an equally shy smile, no doubt all proud for putting himself out there. Sokka can’t say anything, knows he does the same thing, and instead focuses on those flip-flopping feelings in his chest cavity. He knows he should probably look away before he eventually sparks any irritation. But he can’t, not when Zuko flushes the way he does at the slightest bit of attention. Not when that reddened lip calls to him like a siren’s call. 

He thinks if he were a braver man, he’d reach forward. Pull the other boy closer and allow himself to fall into him. But what they have is tentative and Sokka isn’t ready to jeopardize what they’ve managed to build in the past week. So, he turns away with a racing heart and manages to get a grip on his hormones. Just, maybe not in the way he wanted.

It feels like a missed chance but he moves on, taking note every time their eyes meet, or the way Zuko’s face contorts when he concentrates and he almost seems to be pouting. Even his hands serve as a temptation, long and thin, his fingers as deliberate as an artist’s. 

Maybe it’s because of all those little things or even the palpable tension that Sokka fears might be one-sided. Maybe it’s Sokka embracing that warrior spirit he constantly strives for and for once finally acting instead of thinking. 

But when he goes to leave and Zuko dares to even seem disappointed, as if he’s the one slowly dying, Sokka snaps. And in the doorway of the poorly upheld apartment, he acts on what he’s wanted to for a while now. 

He spins on his heels, startling the other boy if the wide eye is anything to go by. And he pulls him as close as possible before he finally, finally manages to get a taste of those delicately pink lips. His soul weeps at what feels like a reunion, like coming home after years and years of bad days. 

Zuko, initially tense, very quickly warms in his arms. He willingly falls against the frame of the door, letting him crowd against him, and Sokka can feel the prince’s violent heart beat against his chest. If he were a romantic, and he admittedly is, he’d put stock in the way it felt like his own heart raced in tandem. 

It’s only the need for air that separates the two, both breathless and flustered. And it gives Sokka a chance to marvel at the slip of a man he gets to hold. He realizes he likes Zuko’s lips like this best. Red and raw because of him instead. 

A few breaths is all they’re allowed it seems, this time Zuko being the one to pull Sokka flush against him. He allows for a deeper taste and Sokka tries not to turn to mush as the delicacy that is Zuko and jasmine flood his senses entirely. And all he can think is that this makes sense. This, right here, is the rightest he’s ever felt. 

If the desperate hands curled against his tunic and almost pained noises are anything to go by, and he hopes they are, then he’s not the only one completely floored like a lovesick fool. 

It takes a few moments before they untangle and Sokka rests his forehead against Zuko’s, trying his hardest not to give away just how far gone he truly is. “Sorry.” He laughs, loosening his grip on the smaller boy’s hips. 

“Don’t be,” Zuko huffs, looking far too petulant for Sokka to not kiss again, even if just chastely. His face grows even warmer in response but he looks more content than Sokka’s ever seen him. 

“I should probably get going, huh?” And he really should, he’d promised his sister he’d be home in time for dinner, but he makes no move to go. 

Zuko nods, a frown pulling at those precious lips that he finally gets to say he kissed. “My uncle will be home soon.”

So with a sigh and a courage he didn’t know it would take to simply leave, Sokka pulls himself together. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

At that, the other boy snickers. “You’ll be at the tea house before we are tomorrow.”

“Obviously.” Sokka laughs, giving in to his urge again and pressing his lips against the crown of Zuko’s head. 

He finally heads home, feeling like his feet are headed in the opposite direction. And he leaves that wonderfully complicated boy in the doorway with red cheeks and redder lips and feels it’s a shame he doesn’t get to stand there and watch him all day. 

* * *

He’s back later than expected, having gotten caught up in his own head and accidentally taking wrong turns or missing them altogether. Despite the added time he’d had, his heart still hasn’t calmed. Meaning that when he gets to the house, Toph turns his way with a quirked and curious brow. 

“And what have you been up to?” She questions, gaining the attention of the soulmate pair that were caught up in longing glances. 

“Nothing!” He defends, only serving to give himself away faster. 

She scoffs. “I didn’t even need to sense that to tell it’s a lie.”

“Oh leave him alone, Toph,” Katara, his wonderful and perfect sister, chides. He really ought to be nicer and tease her and Aang less. “He was probably getting tea with that crush again.”

Right. He takes it all back. His sister is a sneaky little traitor. “Hey! I was not!”

Aang skips over, positively beaming as he pokes at Sokka’s cheeks. “You’re blushing!” 

Sokka quickly swats the hands away, only growing hotter when the younger boy jumps back with a laugh. “You’re all evil!”

“Then what were you doing, lover boy?” Toph asks manically. 

Knowing he can’t exactly bluff his way out of this, he does the best next thing. “I was seeing someone.”

“Ooh? Who is it?” Katara feigns surprise, only making his exasperation grow. 

“A waiter at that tea shop I go to.” He answers honestly, never so thankful for having kept the name of the place a secret. “His name’s Lee.” Also not a lie, technically. In Ba Sing Se, that was his official name, after all. 

If he slipped up, Toph doesn’t call him out. “Ha! Someone’s got a crush! You’re heart’s going crazy!” She teases instead, falling back onto the couch with mad cackles. 

“I think it’s sweet!” His sister interjects, offering her best supportive smile. 

“Totally!” Aang agrees. “You should invite him over sometime!”

“Especially if he makes you blush like that.” Katara ends up laughing as well, which of course drags Aang into it as well. 

Sokka stomps off to his cot, sliding the door as hard as possible. “I hate you all!” He shouts, knowing they’ll hear him through the thin walls. 

“Love you too!” Katara calls, Toph growing louder and he can picture her doubling over in her giggle fit. 

By the time dinner is done, they’ve wound down, and Katara pats his arm. He knows that they are genuinely curious about meeting this new Lee person but sadly knows it’ll be a while before that happens. For now, he’ll just have to be careful in keeping these two lives separate. 

Life would be a lot simpler if Zuko really was just Lee. A scarred refugee who served tea with his uncle. But, Zuko couldn’t just be one thing. Oh no, he had to go the extra mile and be so much more than Sokka ever thought he’d be. It’s not simple but he thinks it might be nice. It’ll certainly keep him on his toes, that much he knows. 

❃❃❃

Zuko doesn’t quite know what to think of the past few weeks. Ever since Sokka walked through those doors, it felt like this was all a dream. It didn’t feel real and he worried that it wasn’t. 

But then the rough drum of his heart would remind him that this was all very, very real. And while it was beyond overwhelming, he felt lighter than he had in years. Possibly lighter than he’d ever felt his entire life. And for the first time, he genuinely allowed the possibility of a different future in his mind. 

One where he and his uncle settled down in Ba Sing Se under the lives they built for themselves. Sokka would stay in the city and they’d be together. And behind the walls, the war would never touch them. 

It was unrealistic. But it was nice to imagine and he took full advantage of that. It was the only pleasant outcome he had. Any other future was dark and dangerous and he preferred not to think about them. 

Not thinking about them was easier with his soulmate, as cliche as it sounded. It was the truth, though. In his arms as he was now, such worries turned frivolous and became so very distant. And when Sokka kissed him like he was now, he found that he didn’t even have to worry about things as useless as thoughts. Not when he became so hyper-focused in the moment that his brain shut down. 

“I really have to take their orders,” He tries to remind himself, pulling away very reluctantly. The bell had sounded just a few moments ago and if he didn’t go now, he’d have a peeved customer on his hands. 

Sokka pulls him back, distracting him once more with sweet honey kisses. “Well, what about my order?” He suggests lowly, grinning against his lips. 

“You’re not paying me.” Zuko points out, hands clenching around the other boy’s shoulders as he begins peppering kisses against his neck. 

He chuckles, grazing that pale skin with his canines. “Oh, but I could. I’ll even give you a nice large tip, how about that?” 

It’s this that finally snaps Zuko out of it. He rolls his eyes, pushing his soulmate off him as he begins snorting at his own innuendo. “I don’t know how you’re allowed in public.”

“I’m not appreciated in my time!” Sokka cries out in indignation as he’s easily moved to the side. 

Zuko shakes his head before finally going out to greet the patron. He does allow himself a moment to straighten out his clothes and smooth over his grown-out hair. He really ought to ban that boy. He’s far too distracting. 

* * *

His uncle has surprisingly kept mum on the issue of who his soulmate is. Even in the beginning, back when Zuko has been filled with so much anger, he’d kept his opinions to himself. It’s something he’s always appreciated, that easy space and silence that Iroh has never been hesitant to give when he needs it. 

So it’s when they settle in for breakfast, the sun still rising from afar, that he broaches the subject. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“Regarding what exactly, nephew?” He patiently replies, his eyes giving away that he knows exactly what Zuko’s trying to bring up. 

Still, he swallows his pride. “Hiding here. Doing what I’m doing with Sokka.”

Iroh hums, using his spark rocks to start the fire for his kettle. It’s only after the flame has steadied that he bothers to respond, oblivious to how increasingly antsy his nephew becomes. “You worry what your father will think.” 

He nearly chokes, the concise statement punching the air from his lungs. “Yes.” He confirms with a rasp.

“Well, Prince Zuko,” He begins pointedly, the previously abandoned title weighing heavily between them. “I suppose you’re at the crossroad of deciding what is right to you, not anyone else. Do you regret the choices you have made?”

“Some.” He answers easily, those exact memories coming to mind now. “But I feel like I could be doing more, Uncle. That I’m wasting my time being here!”

He sighs, watching the flame flicker between them. There’s an unreadable expression written across his face, leaving Zuko scrambling to try and decode it. “I guess the important question to answer then is this: are you happy as things are?”

There’s no hesitation when his mind brings forth icy blue eyes and skin warmer than his own. He never thought it would be possible but he realizes that it’s because of his soulmate that he’s happy here. That he’s learned to take this simple lifestyle in stride and begin to heal from his own inflicted anger.

But that doesn’t mean everything is perfect. He’s still facing a daunting, uncertain future and it threatens to consume him every day. No measure of pretending will take away his own worries and fears. “Sometimes but not always.”

“Then I suppose you should seek ways to amend your worries. But most importantly, be patient with yourself, nephew. You are young but you have led a difficult life. You must ease yourself into this newfound hope.” He advises, just in time as the kettle starts to whistle. “Oh! It’s done! Would you like some ginseng tea?” 

He shakes his head, caught on what he finally realizes is really hope. He hadn’t put that together before. But Sokka has given him hope for his future and the odd acceptance from Ba Sing Se has even played its role in making him feel less distanced from others. “Thank you, Uncle.”

* * *

Iroh had suggested fixing his worries. Perhaps that was more blandly said or Zuko was even misreading the message but he took it and he ran. He couldn’t do much in terms of helping the world but he could help Sokka. 

Which, he knew, would in turn help the Avatar. He wasn’t ready to think about it in those terms though, no yet, so it was strictly helping his soulmate. If it happened to help the boy he’d chased around the world, well, that was unintentional. 

He put renewed vigor into helping look for clues concerning the missing flying bison. He not only kept an ear close to the ground but he combed through the city at night, once again donning his mask. If the beast was here, then whoever had him was going through great lengths to keep him hidden. 

It took weeks before he finally found his first lead. It was so simple, something he would have easily overlooked if he hadn’t been desperately searching. A man had come into their new tea house. It was even the grand opening of the Jasmine Dragon. 

A man came in, dressed in fancy robes but wearing what were obvious work boots. And right on the hell of his left foot, trailing after him, were white strands. Zuko felt a little crazy picking some up but he knew what the bison’s fur felt like. It was distinct and unlike any other fur. And sure enough, the barest strands gave it away. 

When he looked back up at the room, he noticed his uncle looking his way, his expression pinched. Zuko couldn’t blame him. His chest felt tight with the fact that if he did this, he was officially a traitor. There was no excuse he could give himself. He’d be undoubtedly helping the Avatar, no matter how he tried to reason it. This wasn’t for Sokka anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a challenge. I just didn't really know what direction to take it in besides cute and wholesome and a little touch of soul searching (looking at you, Zuko.) But I also might have broken two nails entirely off so typing is a little hard right now which means progress might be a little slowed. Don't worry, I'll figure something out! Chapter updates will still be a regular occurrence. Next chapter should be more exciting though. I've seen people question what'll happen in the final showdown in season 2 and I'm curious to know what direction you think I'm going. Throw out some speculations if you want! 
> 
> PS, I love y'all and I will take a bullet for every one of you. These comments are like my oxygen at this point, dudes.


	8. stop me from setting us aflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has always been his mother's son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, finally! The crystal caves and Zuko's decision.

Coughing for the hundredth time that day, Zuko figured he was coming down with a cold or something of that nature. He wasn’t one to get ill easily but with stress toppled on top of recently being in a dusty room with a soaking, skin-tight suit, he figured he was lucky it wasn’t worse. 

At least he freed that giant bison before he came down with whatever he had. And he knew it got back to the Avatar, seeing the group fly away on the thing by the time he crawled out of that weird secretive facility. He still didn’t know what his soulmate and his friends were doing there and tried to fend off the panic due to the fact he hasn’t seen him since. It’s only been a couple of days, after all. 

Uncle was there, though. Even helped him dispose of the suit and mask when he got back, no longer wanting to help the Avatar just so it could benefit himself in the long run. Plus he kept him drinking tea all day, the herbs apparently meant to help his body. He didn’t question it. He was too tired to, anyways. 

It was only when he’s able to work again that he finally sees Sokka. He’s cleaning a table when he comes crashing through the front doors of Iroh’s tea shop, far too reminiscent of what should have been their first meeting. It startles a number of customers, earning Sokka quite a bit of glares that he’s either oblivious to or blatantly ignoring. Instead, he rushes forward, wrapping his arms around the smaller teen. 

“I don’t know how you did,” He whispers against the shell of his good ear. “But thank you.”

With a secretive smile, he pulls away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sokka rolls his eyes, pulling Zuko along to the kitchen despite the reminders of waiting customers. He goes through the process of making sure they aren’t seen and can’t be disturbed before he breaks out into a wide, infectious grin. “Appa saved us. We were surrounded by Dai Li agents and he  _ somehow _ escaped wherever he was and allowed us to getaway. It was absolutely crazy! There was a facility and they were teaching these girls to be the same person and Katara’s ex-friend even died!”

“Wait, someone died?” Zuko asks slowly, bringing Sokka arms back by his side and not swinging in the air. He knew there was loss where the Avatar went, usually before rather than after his visits, the Northern Water Tribe being the only exception, but he didn’t know how dangerous their adventures could be without the involvement of the Fire Nation. “Are you okay?”

Sokka doesn’t answer, just looks at Zuko all funny like, as if he’s finally turned into a talking turtle-duck. Then, once the corner of his lips have pulled to make a small smile, he shakes himself out of it. “I… yeah, I’m okay. You’re stuck with me, you jerk. I’m not going anywhere. Now, like I was saying, crazy shit.”

He listens to the recount of events, only somewhat surprised by the political drama of it all. And finally, he announces how Zuko truly is stuck with him, sharing the news of everyone’s departure to do their own thing. Including how his sister is the one to see their father. 

“You didn’t have to stay.” Zuko reminds him, all too familiar with that ache to reconnect with one's father. 

Sokka shushes him, taking his hands into his own. “I made my choice and I’m sticking to it. I know where I need to be and that’s here. Being with you is just a perk,” He laughs, bringing Zuko’s hand up and pressing a chaste kiss against the inside of his wrist. “Besides, Katara would have put off talking with him till the end of this war if she wasn’t pushed to do so. She needs to see him. Before it festers too much.”

“I think,” He lowly begins. “That you don’t realize how kind you are. Your sister is lucky to have you, Sokka.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “It’s the other way around, I assure you. She had to put up with me, after all!”

“Well, speaking from experience, it’s not that hard to do.” Zuko counters, because damn it, Sokka is  _ good _ and he deserves to at least recognize that. 

And then he’s snickering, mouth opened to say something Zuko knows will make him cringe if the mad look in his eyes is anything to go by. “It’s plenty hard, especially for you.” He can barely finish his own sentence, too busy cackling whIle Zuko rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head he worries they’ll get stuck. But then he sobers, leaning heavily against him. 

Zuko gladly welcomes the weight, even wrapping his arms around the other boy’s lean waist. “Life is unexpected. So, maybe you’ll see your father sooner than expected.”

“Maybe.” He concedes with a sigh. 

* * *

The letter is delivered when the Jasmine Dragon is almost empty, most customers chased out by the approaching closing time. On it is an official seal and for a moment, Zuko feels his heart race with worst-case scenarios filling his head. Even Iroh seems taken aback as he retrieves it from the carrier, opening it with a rare hesitance. 

He pours over the words and it’s only Sokka’s bravery to speak that the deafening silence is cut to bits. “What does the  _ Earth King _ want?” He asks as if he hasn’t personally met and spoken with the figurehead. 

Iroh breaks out into a wide grin, waving the scroll above his head. “We’re invited to serve the King our finest tea tomorrow evening!”

“What? Why? How does he even know about us?” Zuko can’t help but worry, truly not wanting to hurt his uncle with his speculations but he wants not to be arrested a little more. 

“I mean,” Sokka shrugs, rising from his chair to look at the letter over Iroh’s shoulder. “This place is pretty well known. It’s not far-fetched that he heard of Mushi’s amazing teas.” 

It’s the alias that reminds him not to be weird… er, weirder… in front of the guests, no matter how few there are at this point. So he stifles all his suspicions for now and allows himself the joy for his uncle’s accomplishment. “You’re right. Congratulations, Uncle.”

“I could not have gotten here without you, nephew.” He beams.

“Don’t discredit your hard work. You earned this.” He insists before turning his focus to the boy with the white petals etched into the side of his face. “Will you be there?”

At this, Sokka turns sheepish and shakes his head. “No, I won’t be able to. I’m planning to meet with the Kyoshi Warriors in the evening.”

“I’ll save you a cup then, Sokka,” Iroh promises warmly, patting his shoulder. 

“I appreciate it.” He says with a small nod. 

By the time the boy leaves, Sokka has given many warnings to be careful since he’s convinced Zuko’s fever isn’t completely gone. It doesn’t help that Iroh backs him up despite the once prince feeling absolutely fine. Still, he sees their point and promises to take it easy. 

* * *

He doesn’t take it easy. As it turns out, they were never there to serve the Earth King. It takes all he has to fight off the Dai Li that swarms them and it’s a conscious, purposeful choice that he makes to let his uncle escape. When they finally pin him down, brought to his hands and knees by the very earth beneath him, he accepts his defeat with a scowl and a rough cough that threatens to shatter his ribcage. 

They throw a bag over his head and practically drag Zuko behind them. Where they go, he doesn’t know, too caught up in trying to get free from his rock shackles. Yet, it seems the more he struggles, the tighter they get. 

When they do remove the bag, he barely gets a glance at his surroundings before he’s sent tumbling down a tunnel. He feels every bump and rock on the way down and when he finally reaches steady ground, he takes his time rising to his feet. 

Around him are luminescent crystals that protrude out of every part of the cave. If circumstances had been different, if he hadn’t been sent down here by force and trapped as a prisoner, then he would have taken time to admire the beauty of it all. 

He combs through the cave, desperate for a way out, and sighs every time his search fails. He knows from the fall alone that he’s far too underground for anyone to hear him and it’s a chilling thought. It leads him to pondering about what they want from him. What they can even achieve by having him. He’s no use to his family, dead to his nation, and the city is still hesitant to bring the war to the forefront of anyone’s mind despite finally accepting that there is a war at all. 

He nearly tears his hair out in frustration. Wants to yell and scream like he hasn’t in ages. He only holds back from the exhaustion that weighs him down. It seems he really should have taken it easy and he would have, had he not needed to fight. And subsequently fail but that was another matter entirely. 

And then, miraculously, the tunnel opens once more. He rushes to it, prepares himself to climb it if need be. But then there’s a shout that echos down and he jumps back, eyes wide as he waits for the body to hit the ground. It takes a moment but then there’s a shock of blue and a flash of recognition. 

When the figure sits up, Zuko rushes forward, quick to help the boy up. “Sokka! What are you—what, what’s going on?!”

“Oh geez,” He huffs, leaning against a protruding crystal as he brushes himself off. “Your sister is one sneaky bitch. No offense."

This gives him pause, only remembering the empty room they’d been led to and the agents that lied in wait. “My sister?!”

“Yeah, was pretending to be Suki. As if I couldn’t tell the difference.” He scoffs before his eyes widen and he frantically begins to look Zuko over like the mother-hen he often accuses Katara of being. “Wait, you’re here. What happened?! Are you hurt?! Where’s Iroh?!”

“I’m okay!” Zuko says with practiced patience. “We went to serve the King but there was no one there. Then the Dai Li jumped out and Iroh escaped while I distracted them.”

“I’m surprised your uncle let you do that.” Sokka marvels, leading to Zuko flushing bright pink as he remembers Iroh hollering up at him to escape. His uncle hadn’t exactly been pleased by the turn of events. 

So, he shrugs, not willing to say just how upset he’d seen Iroh the last he saw the man. “Did you see what area we’re under?”

“No,” Sokka answers with a slow shake of his head. “Any way to get out?”

“None. I’ve checked everywhere.” Zuko sighs, worrying his lip as he realizes the predicament they’re in with full force once more. 

“Good thing I brought my boomerang,” The other boy says in an attempt to brighten his hopes. “Maybe we can, like, dig a way out?”

Zuko debates shooting it down before he heaves yet another sigh and lets his shoulders sag. “I guess it’s something.”

* * *

It’s only after giving up and residing to staring at the wall that they hear it. The earth shifting towards them sends them to their feet and they prepare for the worst. For his sister or for her newly acquired army. 

When the wall finally gives way, it’s neither. In place of what they’d feared was an army is instead the Avatar and the once-revered Dragon of the West. They quickly rush to the soulmate pair, each hugging the person they’d come searching for. 

“Aang! Oh man, you’re my savior! I thought we’d be goners for sure!” Sokka exclaims brightly, throwing his arms around the monk. 

Zuko, in turn, is practically squished by Iroh’s tight hug. “Uncle! What’s the Avatar doing here?” He asks less because of who he was with and more because he remembers Sokka telling him how the boy was going on some spiritual adventure. 

“Helping me find you, nephew. Now hurry on, I fear we were trailed.” He answers, pulling away with plenty of hesitance. 

Sure enough, there’s that same noise from before, the earth shifting against itself like a small earthquake. Except for this time, it comes from two opposite ends of the cave, one behind the furthest wall and the other in the same newly made tunnel. 

“That must be Katara and Toph!” The Avatar exclaims, practically vibrating where he stands. 

“We’ll stay here. The two of you go check on the other side.” Iroh instructs, keeping a firm grip around Zuko’s wrist. 

Sokka nods despite the clear discontent in his shoulders from separating like they were. “Keep each other safe. I’ll see you once this is all over.”

The wall almost seems to explode as rock is thrown aside at Aang’s command. And Zuko sees his inquisitive stare, only distantly hearing his question over whether or not the pair were on friendly terms. He tries not to focus on it, instead straining his hearing on the tunnel. 

“Funny you ask,” Sokka’s awkward laughs echo enough that Zuko hears them still. “That’s Lee.”

He doesn’t hear anything beyond that, can’t really try to anyways as Iroh calls his name. “They will be here soon so I will make this quick, nephew. You have made me so proud and I am honored to have seen you blossom into the young man who stands before me now,” He gives a soft, serene smile, and its enough to have Zuko realizing the finality of his words. “Now, I will distract them. You can run and make it still, Zuko.”

He tries to find something to say in response but the air has been knocked from his lungs. This, he realizes, is it. He can never be Lee ever again. That person has been ripped from his hands far too soon and now he’s left with these brittle pieces of Zuko that he doesn’t know what to do with. If they’re even worth saving, cleaning up, and being made new again. It’s in this struggle that there’s a loud thud and three figures land on their feet. Just as quickly, his uncle is encased in the protruding crystals, now tripled their original size. 

“Yes, Prince Zuko,” His sister smiles with far too many teeth. It reminds him of the piranha-sharks he’d been warned about as a child and it’s quite a fitting comparison. Both predators facing their prey already knowing they’ll come out the victor. “Feel free to run off like the traitor dear old Uncle wants you to be and rot into nothing. Or… regain your honor tonight. Join me now and make Father proud for once.”

“You don’t need me!” He won’t fall for her tricks, not again. “You have an entire army backing you here!”

“True.” She hums, eying him closely before she softens with a sigh. “Alright, yes, I might have an army, but imagine the glory when you come home a hero. That not only did the princess make Fire Nation history but the prince helped her. You’ll be restored in their eyes, Prince Zuko. No longer cast out or banished. Don’t you want to make our people proud to call you their Prince? To have you be the one they look to for guidance once you take Father’s place?”

Her words, always so tempting when she wants them to be, drive into his head syllable by syllable until it threatens to drive him crazy. He knows this game, he should be better at it by now. Yet, he still lashes out in anger and a great shout. “Stop it! You don’t mean any of this!”

“Don’t I?” She argues, stepping closer till they’re only a foot apart. “I want you home, Zuzu. Your  _ people _ want their Prince home. Restore your honor here today and you can grant these wishes. It’s time, isn’t it? Or are you really going to be selfish and choose yourself over them?”

“Don’t listen to her!” Iroh finally interjects with a cry. “She is saying what you want to hear, Zuko! It’s all lies!”

She gives an indignant scoff, the scowl far scarier on her than it ever could be on Zuko. “It’s not a  _ lie  _ that the Fire Nation wishes for their prince to come back home and serve them as he’s meant to.”

“Think about what you have made for yourself, nephew! Think about what you have achieved and how much you have grown! Of all the love you’ve found!” Iroh tries desperately, still not struggling against the crystals that light up his face. 

Zuko, knuckles white from how tightly he’s clenching his hands together, finally snaps. “Shut up! The both of you!”

For once, people listen. Or at least, they do for a moment before Azula feels the need to say the last word. “You make your decision but remember this. Even Mom made sacrifices.”

She flees after, knowing that such a sensitive topic would make him flare-up. Zuko shakes where he stands, not even hearing his uncle has his eyes grow heavy and hot. He reminds himself that Azula always lies. Except when the truth hurts more. Exactly like right now. 

His mother, with her soulmate back in her hometown and her heart bruised and broken by his father. She’d made that sacrifice for their people and she’d even told him that many had to make the same decision. One between the heart versus responsibility and duties. 

He people, war-torn as the rest of the world. His people, taking the honor of the Fire Nation and dragging it through the dirt just to get away with awful deeds. His people, corrupt and deeply hurt. Did his father know? Or was he so detached from the rest of the world that these things went unseen? 

But then there was Sokka. With his cold eyes and warmer heart. So good that it made his heart ache if he pondered it for too long. It would mean joining him or leaving him behind in the worst way possible. It would mean fighting his soulmate and betraying him. 

He entertained the thought of joining them for just a single second. There was no room for him and he wasn’t needed nor even trusted by the other members of the group. He’d be a walking target for them and he couldn’t do that. Every future he saw with them involved them being hunted down and imprisoned or killed. He had  _ nothing  _ to offer. Even the information about his own Nation was outdated and useless. 

Zuko, with a chilling realization, comes to his decision. He wants to crumple to the floor of the crave, let nature consume him so he doesn’t have to do this. Because he was right when he mentioned his sister having an army. Full of masters, even. How could they possibly survive that? Let alone escape? In a mad way to make sense of his choice, he figured at least this way, he could prevent anyone from dying. 

Maybe he could even talk to his father, explain how the world views them, and make some sort of case for how many soldiers abuse their power? Perhaps, returning home with glory and self-restored honor like Azula promised, his father finally just  _ listen _ ?

His mind brings him back to that family who took him in under false pretenses. Of a mother with wilted soulmarks who couldn’t be happier. She said people got to choose their happy endings. And maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten a taste of his. Maybe that was more than he ever deserved. 

In another reality, they could’ve been happy. There really would have been no war in Ba Sing Se and he’d simply be Lee. But this was a lie. He was more than a refugee and he had more than himself to think about. He was a Prince of people who had gone astray for far too long and someone had to do  _ something _ . 

He wasn’t choosing a happy ending but he was picking a better outcome. He had to be. There was no other way unless he wanted to go down fighting and then he’d truly be useless. He wouldn’t choose himself over his people. He’d make the same choice his mother made all those years ago and he prayed to Agni it was the right step in pushing his people into the light once more. 

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” He chokes out, his bones as weak as paper as he walks away. He ignores the desperate, pleading cries for him to not do this. If he were to pay them any head, he’d fall and crumple like he feared. 

And when he makes his way out of the small area, he sees the battle that has unfolded before him. There’s a number of Dai Li agents fighting off the small blind girl, his soulmate is tackling a few, his soulmate’s sister is whipping more than a few with water, and finally, he spots his sister and the Avatar caught in a fight between water and fire. 

He sees them come to a stalemate and uses all the force he can muster to make his way to them. He feels numb and cold and he doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want to go through with this despite knowing how crucial it is that he must. 

He keeps his eyes down, too afraid of giving himself away. He lands a fire whip between the duo and the room seems to still just as his lungs threaten to stop working entirely. And all of a sudden, the drum of his heart is far too loud and he thinks it might echo if it gets any louder. 

It’s a mistake to look up. Because when he finally dares to, he meets Sokka’s loving gaze and he just seems so thrilled. He’s come to the wrong conclusion and Zuko reaches for his own chest, feeling it cave into itself as he’s completely torn apart by his own designs. 

It seems the dread he feels is palpable enough though and Sokka steps back slowly, eyes widening with a pain that makes Zuko want to rip his own heart out over and over again. There’s ruination behind his eyes that wasn’t there even a moment ago. ‘ _ No,’ _ He mouths silently.  _ ‘Please, no. Don’t do—’ _

Zuko turns away, unable to even look at this beautiful, perfectly good being any longer. And he, finally, falls back into his own skin as roughly as he fell down that tunnel. He puts on a false bravado as he’s forced to embrace the Prince he was born as. 

He lashes out the best way he knows how, kicking a wave of fire towards the Avatar and cementing his fate once and for all with clammy hands and bleeding lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh boy, this chapter. I rewrote it like three times just to figure out certain details. I've always known Zuko's decision, though, and I hope it doesn't disappoint the excitement everyone had for it. His reasoning is less "Have Daddy love me and have honor!" and more "This is for my people. I have to do what's best for my people because I'm still technically a prince." I know his reasoning in cannon isn't that basic when boiled down but still. Sorry for the wait though. I really intended to have this out sooner but work, classes, and certain details of this chapter wanted to torture me instead.   
> I also realized I've failed to give my Tumblr this entire time. It's garnetpains. Come bother me there if you want!


	9. take these hands that held your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as Zuko is his mother's son, Sokka is his father's child.

No one dares to speak once they escape. All that’s heard is Katara’s sobs as she focuses all of her being into healing her soulmate. And even when she’s done all she can do, she clutches at the new wide, open petals that look a sickly yellow with their given context. 

Sokka can’t bear to watch her. Not when she’s compulsively going over the soulmarks every other minute. Not when his own feel like marks of ash smeared against his flesh. Not when the savior of the world, the young boy he saw as a brother, was barely alive. 

He feels a shaky hand wrap around his wrist and he covers it with his own palm. “He’s gonna be alright.” He speaks it with every fiber of his being as if he can will it into existence. 

“He better be,” Toph says so quietly that it’s worrying. He’s reminded of just how young she is and even though she took out dozens of agents back in that cave, he doubts she’s had to deal with something like this. Something as looming and awful as death. 

Some time passes as they seem to fly aimlessly, his sister still cradling Aang on the top of Appa’s head. She holds the reins but her attention is locked onto the unconscious teen with an intensity that twists up Sokka’s heart even further. 

“Katara,” He calls softly. “Where are we going?”

They’d been flying above oceans for hours, long enough for Toph to fall asleep against his side, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. And he’d put off asking, not wanting to disturb her or pull attention away from Aang, but the worry was starting to creep in. 

“We have nowhere else to go but to Dad.” She answers with a sniffle, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. 

If he’d been told this even just a day ago, he’d be ecstatic but now it just leaves a bitterness in his mouth. He didn’t want it to be this way but then again, that’s how life seemed to be as of late. At least he’d be able to see his dad soon even though it was under such tense contexts. “That sounds perfect. We can recuperate there.”

She nods and he pretends not to see her dry her cheeks. “Are you okay?” She asks in that prying way of hers, seeing through him far more easily than he’d like to admit. 

He scoffs at the notion. After all, he’s not holding his soulmate’s half-dead body. He’s not the one who had to fight to catch his soulmate while doubled overdue the intense pain of a sudden and terrifying mark bloomed across his back. “I’m alright,” He lies easily. “It would be stupid to ask if you’re alright. But is there anything I can do?”

Katara just stares at him, eyes boring into his soul and laying his mind bare. He hates when she does this. He absolutely blames it on their dad as she clearly learned it from him. And finally, she gives a slow nod and a weak but present smile. “There is one thing you can do for me. You can forgive yourself. You didn’t do this. You are not the reason for what happened. And I’ve known you my whole life so I know how you can think. You’re not responsible for everyone anymore. You never were.”

He can’t manage any words, everything he could ever say getting lodged in his throat. Just as he’d done for her, she ignores the gestures in drying his eyes. He has to fight the words out, letter by letter threatening to get trapped behind his teeth, but he manages. For her. “I’ll try. But for now, we focus on Aang and his recovery.”

“Right.” This time, her smile isn’t quite so devastated. 

* * *

It’s been days and Aang still won’t wake up. It’s enough to send everyone on edge as they wait for him to come back to the land of the living and it’s almost maddening to constantly keep having to stay quiet at ports. The world believes its last hope is dead. 

Katara stays quiet but it seems her previous visit helped any preexisting tension. She can be snippy, Sokka knows that from personal experience, but she also apologizes within the hour. Oddly enough, he doesn’t count it against her. Instead, he adds it to a list of slights by the Fire Nation. Specifically the royal members. Or even just the one. 

No one mentions Aang’s state to Katara and Toph has given enough vague information to make sure Sokka’s soulmate is never mentioned. He knows they at least have an idea about who his soulmate is. It’s not coveted information. In fact, it’s what he’s known for in some parts. What he’s judged most harshly for. 

And to think, he’d taken joy in comparing the shade of his soulmarks to the softness of the snow found back in the Southern Water Tribe. He’d almost compared it to the snow in their sister tribe since he’d seen it as pristine and upheld in elegance but then he considered the person he once thought he knew. That man had been homely and almost gentle. 

Whoever that was must have died with Aang in that spirits damned cave. Except there was no Katara that would resurrect them back to life. That person hadn’t even been real to begin with, not if he could have done what he did. 

“Be careful with the world on your shoulders,” Hakoda warns as he leans next to Sokka, both overlooking the ocean. “I hear it's a crushing weight.”

Sokka takes a deep breath, tries to clear the jasmine and tea from his senses, and focuses on the salty air. “I’ll take my chances.” 

His father sighs like it’s he who suddenly carries the weight. “What’s on your mind, son?”

“Nothing.” He snaps harsher than intended but not taking it back. He doesn’t want to discuss this. Hardly wants to think about it as it is. 

“I take it this is about the Prince,” He astutely points out like it was ever really a challenge to come to that conclusion. 

His hands tighten around the edge of the ship, knuckles paling drastically. He feels far too exposed and suddenly, just by the reference to his soulmate, it’s like his skin has shrunk a size too small for him to fit. “Dad, don’t. Please. I can’t do this.” He grits out through clenched teeth. 

“Well, you’re going to have to, son. This isn’t going to go away, you know that.” Hakoda pats his back and to both of their surprise, Sokka moves away as if burned. 

“What- what do you want me to say?” He rasps, his nails digging into the hardwood. “What could I possibly say that the world doesn’t already know at this point?! The spirits fucked up! And life, like always, gave me a short end of the stick!”

“It’s hard, Sokka. And I’m so sorry-” 

“Sorry?!” He counters, cutting his father up as something in his chest flares up. “ _You’re_ sorry?! Why?! I’m the one who… who… fuck, Dad. For weeks, I knew he was in the city. Weeks. I could’ve… Maybe I could’ve stopped this from happening. Turned him in to the authorities or told the others or something. Anything! Not play fucking house!”

“Look at me,” His dad gently says, hand warm against his shoulder. “You couldn’t have prevented what happened. You didn’t do this, kid. It was the girl who shot Aang out of the sky that did. Not you.”

Sokka blinks away the hotness in his eyes and nods, leaning into the man’s hold. He wants to believe him, wants to believe Katara too, but it’s hard. Logically, he knows it isn’t on him. He knows it lies on the Fire Nation and their cruel greed to monopolize everything and twist it into their image. 

He wonders if this is what his soulmate did. Twisted Sokka up so badly until he was a sick imitation of his own reflection. Zuko had forced his way into Sokka’s senses, trust, and heart and then he completely ruined it all. Ruined it like everything else the Fire Nation touches. 

But Hakoda isn’t finished and he pulls his almost grown son into his arms. “As for knowing he was there, you did what everyone else would do. You trusted someone, your soulmate, and you got to know them. Sometimes you have to live and learn and it hurts. It really does. But you survive it and you come out stronger for it.”

“What if I don’t?” He asks as he pulls away. “Look at who my soulmate is! He is everything wrong with the Fire Nation! He… he burns everyone he touches and he is the product of _monsters_. And I was pathetic enough to somehow _overlook_ that! To actually… actually,” He feels the words choke him and he debates letting them. He debates giving in to it, if only for a moment, and it’s a thought that chills him more than anything else ever has. “I made myself a fool. I actually trusted him. And he proved what his roots are by siding with the Fire Nation. I guess there’s just one question left.”

“What’s that?” Hakoda follows the prompt cautiously. He looks ready to hug Sokka again and he wishes he could let him. But right now, every nerve ending is hyper-aware and it would just drive him crazier. 

“What’s that say about me? If my soulmate, the literal other half of my soul, is apparently a monster, what’s that say about _me_?” His voice cracks and he hates sounding like that young boy begging to join the men in war.

Hakoda seems to give in to the urge and finally hugs him again. And this time, Sokka doesn’t pull away. “You are no monster, you’re my son. I can’t excuse who your soulmate is but I will tell you this. You are more than your soulmate and you are brilliant in everything you do. Don’t discredit who you are, ever, for anyone.”

Sokka’s practically shaking, clutching at Hakoda’s shirt like he had when he was just a child. “I love you, Dad.” He mumbles weakly. 

“I love you too, son. And I’m so proud of how you’ve grown. Don’t forget that.” He sighs softly, rubbing the teen’s back as his shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs. 

* * *

They steal a Fire Nation vessel and the red has Sokka reeling. It only serves to mock him and maybe that’s why he gets rid of everything red like it carries the plague. The only thing that doesn’t go is their disguises for the sake of blending into the ship so it looks like they belong. So they look like Fire Nation. 

Every part of him protests as he dons the uniform of a soldier and it feels like it constricts with every breath he takes in it. But he welcomes the suffocation if it means they get through blockades without issue. It wouldn’t do to have Aang discovered, not after weeks of keeping him safe and hidden. 

The fact that he still won’t wake is something they try not to broach. Especially with Katara. He thought she was bad after their mom died but this is almost worse. She’s already looking thinner and every day there are dark circles under her eyes is another tally added for reasons to hate the Fire Nation. Safe to say, he’s running out of room on his mind board. 

There’s a clank as a metal tray is dropped onto the table next to Sokka with little grace, the heavy footsteps crossing out three potential others it could be. “So, guess who I just talked to.”

“Well, the options are limited,” Sokka deftly points out with a sigh. “But considering the tone, I’m guessing my dad or sister.”

“Your dad, actually. Good guess.” Bato warmly laughs, patting his back. “We were talking and he let a few things slip. So, I just wanted to come and check up on you.”

He pushes his own tray away now, his food hardly touched. “Thanks but I’m all good.”

Bato doesn’t take his shortness personally though he does shake his head. “It’s scary how alike you are to Hakoda.”

This gives him pause and he turns around with as much disbelief as possible. Sokka didn’t see it and the fact that Bato managed to draw such a conclusion felt like pity more than anything. As if it would be a comfort instead of a slap in the face for his dad. “Take no offense to this, but _how_? Dad… He’s better at this.”

“What do you mean by _this_?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Life? Protecting loved ones? Being a leader?”

He expects several things from Bato. There’s a mixture of reactions that could come from such an outcry. What he doesn’t expect is to be cuffed upside the head hard enough to have him cry out. Bato doesn’t even look apologetic as Sokka turns to face him, flabbergasted beyond the point of making actual words. He barely managed a short, “Wha-why?!”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re a good kid. Actually, I take that back, you’re a good man.” He corrects himself quickly, shaking out his stinging hand. “Listen, Sokka. When I gave you the Mark of the Wise, I meant it. It’s the same mark your dad got, by the way. And if you question that, you question me!”

“Right, wise. Look at how wise I’ve been lately,” Sokka tries to laugh but it doesn’t come out right, the laugh scraping against his ribcage until it comes out hollow sounding. “Really living up to that.”

“Alright, enough,” Bato quickly interrupts, gently shoving his shoulder. “Look, you got your heart broken, but that doesn’t make you a fool. You know what it makes you?”

He almost doesn’t want to hear it and ends up nodding despite himself. “What?”

“It makes you out to be someone who cares about others until it breaks them. It shows signs of a leader who will listen and help others even if it hurts you in the long run. It makes you your father’s son, Sokka.” Bato explains pointedly, each word packed with so much intensity that Sokka knows he believes it all. 

He doesn’t say anything to it, can’t find the right words even if everything depended on it. Bato doesn’t judge him for it, never has, and he finishes his lunch before cleaning up and heading back to the deck. 

Sokka sits there for a while more, watching people he hasn’t seen in years come and go between shifts. He knows he should be doing something helpful but at the moment, his brain fails to work, simply processing what Bato had told him. 

* * *

Aang joins them in the realm of the conscious once more and he does so with a vengeance. He hates it, hates being hidden and secreted away while the world slowly loses hope, and Sokka knows that. And maybe that’s part of the reason he even goes out of his way to avoid the younger boy. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, not until Aang finally corners him with those wide, confused eyes, looking far too close to being genuinely hurt. “Why’ve you been avoiding me? Did I do something? You’ve got to tell me because I’ve been going crazy trying to figure it out! Is it because I threw out the meat that one time? It was going bad, Sokka! You would have gotten sick!”

“What? No!” Sokka interjects before the anxiety consumes Aang completely. “No, it’s nothing. I wasn’t even meaning to and if I gave that impression off, I’m sorry.”

Aang sighs. “You’re still not looking at me.”

Which, fine. That’s fair. Sokka deliberately turns his eyes onto the monk and meets his eyes. “I am now.”

“Come on, just talk to me. Are you mad about something?” He frowns, looking every part like a disgruntled teen.

Debating banging his head against the metal wall, Sokka shakes his head. “No, I’m not mad! I’m just… I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” He doesn’t get it and Sokka doesn’t blame him for that. He hardly gets it himself.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, eying the metal wall that’s looking more appealing by the second. “I guess for you almost dying? You almost died, Aang. You know that, right?”

It’s Aang that looks away this time and there’s a darkness that creeps into the corners of his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I know. Katara, she told me. But that’s not on you.”

“I should’ve protected you. I should’ve been looking out for everyone and I wasn’t.” He argues, because truth be told, he was still haunted by Aang falling as he did. They all were. For a split second, they almost lost him, and he’d never considered that a real possibility before. His fall meant death was real for them and that wasn’t something that felt so heavy before. “I’m so sorry, Aang.”

The younger boy seems to blink back tears as he rushes forward and hugs him. “I never once blamed you, Sokka. But if it helps you heal, then I forgive you, for whatever wrongs you believe you committed.”

He doesn’t move the boy, not yet. And he tries not to hyper-fixate on just how odd it is to see him with hair, let alone feel it beneath his chin. He sniffles a few times and manages to get it under control before the waterworks begin. “I don’t know what the world is worried about. I think we might be in pretty good hands.”

“Hands that are supported by so many others. I’m not alone in this.” Aang adds on before stepping back lightly. 

Sokka laughs and it actually feels full. “You couldn’t get rid of us if you tried at this point. Especially Katara.” 

The kid just dons a dopey smile that results in him rolling his eyes as far back as possible. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

By the time they part ways, Sokka realizes that maybe things might actually work out. Maybe they can actually do this. They’ve clearly got enough luck between all of them to actually pull it off, even if his own might drag it down a bit. 

He might have loved and lost but he didn’t lose everything. He still had his family, he still had himself, and he still had hope. Things would be okay simply because they had to be. And if they weren’t, he knew everyone would fight until they were. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka likes to fight me with his perspective. I still enjoy writing it but he makes me work for it, what can I say? He might have been a little out of character but I figured it gets a pass considering what he's just been through. Next chapter will be in a week and it'll be a Zuko one. I'm excited about it so I hope y'all are too! Hint hint, Ozai.


	10. hide your demons as they tear you apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fire Nation is rife with politics and Azula has always carved her own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, Ozai is garbage. My friend Kaizen also deserves credit for me getting this written finally. Hey Kaizen bb!! I know you reading lmao

“Father will be proud,” Azula reminds him. 

He tries to put stock into her words. Tries to feel anything for them or for achieving what he’s always wanted, even as a child. But the words don’t ring true, not to him, and he welcomes the silence that comes with his lack of response. 

The ocean is a familiar backdrop and for a moment, he can pretend things are simpler than they’ve become. That it’s not his sister and her friends at his side but his uncle. The very one he’s betrayed alongside his soulmate. 

For once, Azula leaves him be. She stalks away and he wonders if he should warn the soldiers below deck. She’ll be sure to cause chaos down there soon enough. He just hopes she takes the two other girls with her. 

Ty Lee at least follows after her, offering him a small wave as she goes. It’s Mai that stays behind, sidling up to where his sister stood just moments ago. It’s the first time he’s actually managed to really see her since they were kids and the changes almost stun him. Though she could probably say the same in regards to him.

She’d been so uncertain as a child, carrying the same darkness even back then. But now, she stands tall with her head held high. As if she’s defending, always. He almost forgot that comfortable familiarity they shared. 

She rests a hand on his shoulder, eyes just as intense as ever. “I hope you made the right choice, Zuko.”

An unbidden sigh escapes him and he silences the desperate voice in the back of his mind that prays to Agni that he did. “I guess we’ll see.”

Mai walks away, shaking her head. It leaves him with his mind, her question on repeat until the words don’t even make sense anymore. And more than ever, he’s fearful that he hadn’t. That this is all for naught and he’s once again fucked up. 

By the time the isles come into view, he forcefully shoves the thoughts away. He can’t afford to think that or else he’ll lose his sanity and nerve. He… he has to do this. He has to fill this role because no one else will and he was born to do it. 

He tries not to think how much he misses wearing green robes instead of the ones he dons now. This rich red makes his pale skin an even starker contrast against his scar. He should feel at home like this, should feel _something_ more than this dread in his chest. 

_This is supposed to be a good thing._ He reminds himself of that fact. Repeats it until the words threaten to etch themselves into his skull so that he can never forget them, even when he’s dead and gone. He’ll make this a good thing even if he has to. He doesn’t have a choice otherwise. 

* * *

Zuko faces practically all of Caldera in his return. He sees the servants he didn't know he even remembered and even has to deal with Lo and Li. He’s welcomed back as the crowned prince with his sister just a step away. And throughout it all, he’s somehow managed to escape having to see his father. 

Eleven days. He’s been home for eleven days and it’s almost as if they don’t even live together. He shouldn’t be so antsy, especially considering the fact that he’d go well over a month without seeing Ozai as a child. But this should be different. 

He hasn’t been within these walls for over three years and yet nothing, not a single thing, has changed. The only difference is himself. And it taunts him, every waking moment, feeling as if he’s slipped into someone else’s shoes. He has the distinct and uneasy feeling that he doesn’t belong here, that he’s impersonating the real prince. 

It’s on this eleventh day that he’s finally, finally summoned to the throne room. Perhaps it’s childish or immature but he specifically asks for the servants to dress him in the best robes he owns. There aren’t many to pick from since he’d come home with the clothes on his back and he’s outgrown his old ones. But he makes due and tries to wear the gold-trimmed silks proudly. Tries to hold his head tall as his hair is pulled into an elegant topknot, the ornament decorating it marking him as a prince. 

For once, it’s not a banished one. A traitorous one. He’s, at long last, welcomed back into the arms of his nation. When he says he’s the Prince of the Fire Nation, no one will be able to interject and argue that point. No one can claim that he’s _unwanted_. 

_Isn’t he, though?_ Look at who he’s betrayed. The two people who care for him the most in this world. And he’s made them hate him. He’s always had someone in his corner to support him but for the first time, he is truly and utterly alone. 

So, he supports himself when he finally confronts his father for the first time in years. He kneels before the man who deigns to even stand and greet him. Ozai sits, regal and imposing in his throne, before a wall of fire. 

Zuko desperately tries not to recall the last time he’d kneeled before his father and fire. Pushes back the phantom pains that make themselves known even now. Especially now. 

“You’ve restored your honor and made your people proud. Welcome home, my son.” Ozai exclaims, voice louder than what he remembered. 

He keeps his eyes on the floor beneath him, his hands shaky against the marble. “Thank you, Father.”

The fire parts and when he dares to glance up, he sees Ozai striding towards him. No longer hidden in the shadows of the fire and finally standing over him, it cements how real this is. It lets his choice sink in and his throat tightens almost painfully. His father standing over him years ago is seared into his mind and he prepares himself for the pain that will be sure to follow. 

His father only gets close when there’s a reason. Otherwise, he stands back and watches the world unfold at his command. The few times Ozai had chosen to get close to Zuko, pain followed. It always followed. 

“I see the weight of your travels has changed you. I worried it would be for the worse but it seems I was mistaken.” Ozai doesn’t smile, never has, but it’s a near thing when the corner of his mouth moves upwards. “You’ve even helped with the capture of your traitorous uncle.” 

Iroh had refused to look at him after the battle and Zuko couldn’t blame him. He was now rotting behind bars in the capital and he could barely resist the urge to run to him. It would be too soon. He had to have patience, just like his uncle always said, and he had to give this time. 

“Even more, you’ve given this Nation it’s biggest accomplishment yet,” He continues, beginning to circle around the kneeling prince. He comes to a stop when he’s directly behind him. “Not only have you assisted your sister in claiming Ba Sing Se, you’ve also managed to take down the Avatar. Your sister told me everything but it would do well to hear it in your own words.”

His heart seizes, mentally cursing Azula for saying whatever she had to cause this. It’s a test, there’s no doubt about it. But he comes up empty-handed when he tries to find the right things to say. “I cannot claim the victory as my own, Father. Azula and her agents deserve just as much credit, despite what she may say.”

“So you’re saying she lied to me? I was led to believe the Avatar died by your hands.” Ozai finally reveals, leaving Zuko almost scrambling to take it all back. 

“No!” He loudly argues, raising his head up. He finds that he immediately regrets it, his father wrapping a large hand around the back of his neck. Everything in him screeches to a halt and he forces himself to get this under control. “I’m sorry, Father. All I mean is that I would not have had the opportunity to do as I did without them.”

There’s a tight, warm squeeze that is far too reminiscent of his childhood before the hand slips away. “Was anyone else defeated? I heard there were others involved in the fight.”

“Just the Avatar.” He clarifies, feeling his answer lacking somehow. 

Ozai heads back to his throne, each step slow and deliberate. They manage to echo throughout the room, mimicking an old clock counting down the seconds. “So your soulmate managed to escape?” 

“Y… yes, Father.” 

When he dove into the Northern waters, it had been so cold that it hurt. And for a moment, before he remembered his own inner heat, he’d thought he might die from the shock of cold that had seized his muscles. It had taken a second to get his body to listen to him once more, to push passed the cold. All that said, he felt like he had in that split second after diving into the nearly frozen waters. He knew what he had to endure but he had to do this. Instead of the brittle ice though, it’s the scorching fire that he’s already been burned by. 

His father sighs and for some reason, he expects the wall of fire to be blown out. To have the room blackout. Like he’s actually a dragon capable of such a thing. “While it’s too late to hide this fact, your ability to remain loyal to the Fire Nation proves to be promising. Though I expect if you see him again, you’ll return home with wilted soulflowers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly so, Father.” He grits out. He almost loses himself but then he remembers why he’s here. “Father, if I may-”

“You may not.” Ozai stops him there, the wall of fire finally becoming one again and shielding him in shadows once more. “I believe we’re done here.”

A handmaid is gestured to his side and she smiles as he rises to his feet. He thinks about arguing but knows that’ll only earn him another scar. He can’t push this, not so soon, not when he’s only just returned home. So he bows at the waist and follows the handmaid out of the Fire Lord’s throne room, trying to ignore the eyes that follow after him. 

* * *

Zuko doesn’t even bother to knock as he storms into the room. He expects to find his sister in bed, possibly even asleep, but instead he finds her slipping a robe on, her back exposed. The first thing he notices is the faded burn wrapped around her bicep. It’s not bad but it’s clearly a handmark. In fact, it’s close to mirroring his own years-old scar. The next is the flower that blooms in the corner of her hip. Small but noticeable with the wide, open, pink petals. 

Petals that are familiar and ones he recognizes very easily, even if they are a faint pink, almost white. “Mom had the same flowers.” He says in a breath. 

She’s clearly shaken, quickly tying the robe and turning with the sharpest glare. “You saw nothing.”

He wonders if he should push it. But he knows too much about the sensitivity of soulmates and figures it’s the least he could do. The decent thing to do. Yet, just as he had those years ago, he still asks. “Have you met them?”

Azula bristles and he prepares to be yelled at to leave or even forced out of the room. In the end, she doesn’t do either, just plants a hand on her hip and raises her chin high. “I’ll answer you if you answer me. How was it?”

“What?” He frowns deeply, completely thrown. He feels like he’s in another game that he’s bound to lose and he hates it. Zuko just wishes his family would actually be straight-forward for once. 

“How was it?” She asks again, a cruel smirk curling her lips. “When you betrayed Uncle and your precious soulmate. How was it when you bore witness to their hearts breaking? Did it hurt?”

Stepping back is the only way he prevents himself from wringing her neck. Instead of shouting back, he takes a deep breath and remembers who he’s dealing with. She wouldn’t be so vitriolic about this if she hadn’t met her soulmate. She’d just want him to stay quiet about this. “I’m not heartless, Azula. I take it you’ve met them then? Did you watch their heart break too?”

When she laughs, it’s caustic and it echoes in the worst of ways. “You’re learning, Zuzu. Not quite so pathetic anymore. Though it does get awfully close now and again.”

“Does Father know?” He questions, easily dismissing her words. He’s getting better at that, at ignoring her attempts to wound and getting straight to the point. 

“What do you think? Of course not!” She hisses, staring down her nose at him like he’s a child. “And unless you want him to find out that it wasn’t you who defeated the Avatar _or_ that you had a short-lived affair with that savage, I suggest you keep certain things to yourself.”

He then remembers a crucial detail. Sokka had told him in passing about a vial of water that Katara kept on her at all times. He hadn’t even meant to say it but it had slipped out to Iroh of all people in the midst of a spiritual conversation. A vial of spirit water that could heal like nothing else. It does little to quell that rising panic he felt about the situation. But it’s something he hadn’t had for a long time. At least not as Zuko. He had _hope_. “Who says the Avatar is defeated for good? He could have survived.”

She says nothing for a moment, leveling him with a look he can’t name. “Don’t do anything stupid, Zuko. That includes saying things like that.”

Swallowing thickly, he tries to keep that in mind. It isn’t long until he leaves her chambers, those soft pink blooms still flashing beneath his eyelids. While he doubts his sister appreciates it, he finds the irony there as bitter as it is sweet. And he briefly wonders who it could be before pushing it far from his mind. He doesn’t need someone else’s soulmate issues on top of his own. 

* * *

“Don’t be stupid.” Azula bites out, not for the first time this evening. 

He hardly pays her any mind now. His attention is instead spent on his racing heart and pacing steps. This is the first time he’s being welcomed into a council meeting and all he really hears is his uncle in his ear, telling him to be quiet and not to draw any attention. 

“Zuko!” His sister finally snaps, shoving him hard. “You _have got_ to get it together! What is your issue?!”

Several come to mind but he doesn’t speak of them. Doesn’t dare to give her more ammo than the stockpile she already has. “Why do you care?!”

“I don’t!” She denies, practically jumping away from him, as if just standing in his proximity is a declaration that she does. “I’m just concerned that you’ll open your mouth and end up getting banished. Again!”

His shrug is apparently not a comfort to her and she goes eerily quiet, watching him like a hawk. Zuko, for once, listens to his sister and actually begins to attempt to get a hold of himself. “I need to speak to Father, Azula. The things I learned while away… He has to know what our soldiers are doing. It isn’t right and it reflects upon us all.”

“ _What our soldiers are doing_?” She parrots back, resting a hand on her hip. 

“They’re hurting the world and not just through the war. They’re going out of their way and it’s… It’s beyond wrong. It’s sick.” He swallows thickly, every wilted soulflower passing through his mind before the many, many scars follow. 

Azula doesn’t roll her eyes as he’d expected her to do. Instead, she sighs like there’s a weight that only she can see and bear. “Look, say you’re right. What can Father really do though?”

“Something!” He exclaims. “Anything will be better than doing nothing!”

She scoffs, shaking her head. “And you expect to, what? To stroll up to Father and demand change yet offer no solutions and just expect him to figure it out? Truly, Zuko, your lack of intelligence baffles me!” 

“I have to do something!” His voice cracks, any heat in it quickly being snuffed out. He’d already wasted so much time waiting on formalities and he couldn’t stomach just waiting around anymore. He came here for a reason and this was it. To change things. 

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” She questions, leaning in closer at the scent of an opening. She’d get under his skin if she followed it and they both knew that. 

And still, she gets the better of him. Every time. “Because if I don’t fix this, then there’s no reason for me being here!”

“Fix what?” She pokes and prods, delighting in seeing him squirm the way he does when a nerve has been exposed. “Fix a war? You couldn’t even capture the Avatar! How could you possibly manage to end a hundred-year war?”

Uncle always said he never thought things through and Zuko has thought that for once, maybe he had. Maybe he’d played his cards in a way that offered the best change. But now, he began realizing that maybe Azula was right. He couldn’t just expect things to change. Not without genuinely thinking it through and planning on what changes could be made. And then, maybe his father really would listen to him. Before it was too late. Before the world was burned for good. 

“I have to try.” He says with conviction. 

“Just,” Azula huffs. “Just don’t do anything stupid and whatever you do, don’t speak until _after_ the war council.”

“Fine.”

So, he does as he was told all those years ago. He keeps quiet and doesn’t dare to draw any attention towards himself. Not again. The whole time, the warning sits on the tip of his tongue, held back by shaky will. Patience. Uncle always said he needed patience. 

Zuko takes note of the arrangements they make and the squadrons they plan to ship off to the Earth kingdom to help conquer the villages neighboring Ba Sing Se. None are as great as the once impenetrable city but it’s the vantage points they’re after. He can understand that. Or he could have, had it ended there. 

“The benders are being seized now and we’re only beginning to see revolters. If the soldiers keep a firm hand on the city, they should be able to extinguish any rebellions. Casualties are to be expected.” A man who Zuko thinks might be Mai’s father reports. Ukano, if he remembers correctly. 

What he also remembers is the horror story that Sokka had divulged what felt like a lifetime ago. He remembers the way his voice had trembled when he told it, the way ash had become an omen of death for not just him but so many others. And lastly, he remembers the remains he’d found in the Air temples in those first few months of searching. The way Aang had probably joined them, falling in a way that he’d never believed. 

He tries not to think about the Avatar but sitting at the table discussing the war made that hard. Aang, whether or not he survived, and Zuko had a sneaking suspicion that he had, was to be considered a casualty. And he was practically a child. 

These benders they were rounding up had done nothing wrong but be born with the spirit-gifted bending everyone here also possessed. Their only crime was that it wasn’t fire. If he had been younger, he would have spoken out. Demanded that it wasn’t fair. But he knew how that story played out and so instead he bit his tongue until he didn’t feel the urge to scream anymore. It meant blood began to fill his mouth but it was better than making another mistake and repeating history. 

As if sensing his internal struggle, Azula catches his eyes and gives a small shake of her head. He turns away, not needing her reminder yet again on what not to do here. He manages to catch the eye roll though. 

“Our prisons will fill up beyond capacity at this rate. What then?” Another follows up with. 

A much older man, probably the oldest at the table, and one that Zuko vaguely remembers, huffs. “We begin building in new locations and in the meantime, a few more of those casualties occur to make space.” 

He jolts in his seat, throat constricting as he forces himself to stare onward. Surely his father won’t be alright with this. There’s no sense in this and there has to be another way. Perhaps he’ll even reject the notion of arresting earth benders without reason and prevent any ‘casualties’ from occurring. 

Yet, Ozai says nothing, hidden behind his flames as they plan out the murder of innocents. He stares at the shadows the fire creates and forces himself to tune out the rest. And by the time the room clears out, leaving only the Royal family, his jaw aches at how tightly he’s been clenching it. 

“Don’t,” Azula whispers, careful of their father. 

“And say nothing?!” He exclaims, barely able to keep his voice low. 

“You heard what they discussed. Don’t be a child, Zuko.” She forcefully grabs him by the scruff of his neck as if he’s no better than a baby animal and drags him out of the council room. 

“That was my chance.” He tells her, not sounding nearly as disappointed as he should be. 

Azula doesn’t stop pulling him along until they’re secluded in a corridor where no servants can pass them. “Think this through!”

“I am!” That gives him the start he needs, yanking out of her grasp. “I’ve been doing nothing but thinking it through!”

“Then you’re more dense than I thought. You said the soldiers are going out of their way to hurt the world. Did you hear what they said in there?” She asks as one would a child. He goes to answer her, to shout that of course he had, but she beats him to it. “Casualties. They plan for casualties just to make people examples. If they do that, what makes you think they don’t know whatever it is you have to say?”

“If they knew, if they really _knew_ , it wouldn’t be happening! They call us monsters, Azula! And they’re not wrong!” He snaps, turning away to breathe because _uck._ Why was he here? What was he doing? Did he ever have a plan or did he finally screw up and lose _everything_ that had ever meant anything to him? All for what? For this? 

She pauses before her voice dips into something softer, something that reminds him of their mother. “It is war. One that’s gone on too long.” 

That gains his attention. “What are you getting at?”

“Father has his own agenda separate from the Fire Nation's. I happen to have my own and I need you _here_ for it. So don’t be stupid.” That’s all she seems to care to share before she steps away. “Try not to get yourself killed while here.”

He makes no promises, mind still reeling as she takes her leave. He stands there for what feels like hours before realizing it’s time. He tried being patient, tried doing things his way, and that ended up with things being ruined beyond repair. He needs to see Iroh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuuuck this took so much longer than expected. I wanted this out last Wednesday but better late than never. I blame how complicated the Fire Nation is. And yes, the chapter count went up but just by one. I wanted to cover more than just this but oh well. I’ll have to cover everything else next chapter.  
> Oh yeah. I’ve slowly been going through and just tidying things up. Idk if it says updated when I do that but if it does, that’s why.  
> Again, thank Kaizen for this. Lord knows when I would’ve updated. Probably by like Friday. Love ya bb!!


	11. they never learned not to play with fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko Alone pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes, its been a month. And I am terribly sorry! I posted a sneak peek of the chapter though on my Tumblr so some of you might know what's in store.

The man before him is caged like a wild, cornered beast. Probably just as hurt as one would be in such a situation, too. His uncle looks like another person and Zuko wonders just how long it’s really been. If he could have prevented this if he’d just been here sooner, if he never misstepped in the first place. 

What cuts him the deepest is the lifeless look in his eyes. It reminds him of when Lu Ten died, when his uncle had come home a broken man, and he thinks of how history repeats itself again and again. In Iroh’s eyes, he’d lost yet another son, and he had come back home broken once more. 

Zuko kneels down slowly, taking stock of how poor the condition of the cell was. He’d have to do something about that, even if it meant coming and cleaning it himself. “Uncle,” He calls only to be met with continued silence. “I’m sorry it took me so long but I’m here now.”

His uncle seems to be looking through him and Zuko would have questioned if he’d been heard at all if it weren’t for him turning away slowly. It causes a few tangles strands to fall and hide his face. All Zuko can think is that even on the run and starving, his uncle had looked better, looked more alive. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” He promises, voice unwavering in his certainty of that. “And then we-... then _I_ can fix what I’ve done.”

The lack of response has Zuko clutching at the prison bars tightly. He forces himself to breathe through the silence, to practice those taught breaths. He hadn’t come here for a response. He wasn’t owed one anyways. 

“I wanted to come here to tell you that,” He begins, not quite as certain as he started off as. His throat seizes on him, leaving him gasping around the words he has to say. “And to say what I did was foolish. I should have—should have listened to you, Uncle.”

Somewhere amidst the silence and him choking out words, something breaks. Iroh still refuses to say anything, to even look at him, and he looks less human and more like a statue. As if he isn’t even alive at all or even there anymore. 

If that were true, it would be because of Zuko. He knows this. And maybe that’s why he snaps and bangs his fist on the bars like the desperate child he so often feels like. “LOOK AT ME! Please…” He trails off, swallowing back sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Uncle.”

He stays there, kneeling for a few moments longer. All he hears as a response is his own ragged breathing. The only difference is that Iroh’s eyes are closed. Zuko leaves before he can convince himself that Iroh really is just a statue. 

* * *

If he were to be honest, storming into yet another room looking for his sister doesn’t exactly give him the upper hand. He imagines she’d be sneakier about it, can easily picture her waltzing into a room with a hidden smile and heavy eyes. Zuko has never been as graceful as Azula and the way he barges through the door like a bull-elephant makes that strikingly obvious. 

She barely bats an eye, not even bothering to turn his way. Instead, she watches him through her vanity mirror and shoos away the maids. “Brother, what a surprise to see you so early. You wouldn’t mind skipping the pleasantries and getting to why you’re here, would you?”

“I want to talk about Unc-” He barely gets the words out before she stands, the rough scrape of her chair ripping through the air and cutting him off. 

She rushes the last maid out and locks the door behind them, fire burning in her eyes. “Truly, Zuko, your lack of subtlety is frightening. How we’re related is beyond me.

“I imagine it has to do with our parents,” He dryly responds, gritting his teeth together as he goes through the process of his sister manhandling him. She sits him far away from the door and away from any windows. 

“Yes, well, I imagine your savage rubbed off on you some with a comment like that.” She bites out and he wonders if the red paint across her lips is simply venom to coat her words. Considering she was just as scathing as a child, before she began painting her face and looking more and more like their mother, he doubts it. 

Zuko’s come to expect such low blows from her but it doesn’t stop the stinging any less. It curls around his heart and tugs, jostling his entire being in a way that leaves him feeling wrong and raw. It’s not entirely her fault though. He’s felt that way the entire time he’s been home. Or at least something similar to it. “I saw Uncle Iroh.”

“I know.” She huffs. 

“What? How?” He’s not surprised, not entirely, but it seems he’d underestimated her abilities to gain intel on, well, everyone and anyone. 

“The guard. You see, while you were off at sea trying to learn to function, I was swaying loyalties to me and me alone.” She says with a proud smile, as if what she’s said isn’t borderline treasonous. 

He chooses not to address it and instead continues. “Uncle isn’t right. And where he’s being held is helping any. Plus, his face looks thinner. It’s… he’s not okay.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Azula slowly asks, as if talking to a child struggling to grasp a concept. 

He bristles, for all the good it does him, and tries to remember why he’s doing this. For Iroh. He can’t afford to be selfish or thoughtless. Not anymore. “Mine, I know that,” He takes a breath, concentrating so he doesn’t explode. “I need for him to be okay. Or as okay as he can be.”

She rolls her eyes but seems to be considering it. “It _would_ do to have him in good shape,” She murmurs, clearly not intending or perhaps caring that Zuko can hear her. “Alright. So, what is it you propose I do? Have him moved to a better cell and given better food?”

“Yes, exactly those things. Maybe even some kinder guards.” He suggests, remembering the splattered water near the bars of the cell. He doubts his uncle would have thrown perfectly good water, especially in the state he seemed to be in. 

“It’s going to take work. He’s not some random prisoner. You don’t realize how many eyes are watching him right now.” She explains, mulling it over aloud. “What will you do for me?”

He wavers before he says it, knows the power it’ll give her but does it anyway. “Anything.”

“Fine. I’ll figure it out but you owe me, Zuzu.” She bares her teeth when she holds out her hand. 

He takes it, feeling like he’s just made a deal with a dark spirit, but figured even if he has, it’ll be worth it. “Just be careful.”

“Oh, I always am.” 

* * *

To his surprise, all she asks, in turn, is for him to accompany her and her friends on vacation. Besides the many reminders of how out of touch they are with teens their age, the beach isn’t the worst thing in the world. Azula sneaks away often, typically at night, but Zuko still has enough sense not to mention it.

Just as he doesn’t mention the scar in the corner of Ty Lee’s hip or how her swimsuit top has sleeves that reach down to her elbows. She still has fun with the teens, smiling up at them as she twirls her hair around her finger. They fail to realize she’s giving them a glimpse of their own future. 

It has Zuko reevaluating what he thought of the girl. He realizes that maybe, in his own way, he’d underestimated her because of her softness. Not her strength or abilities, because he’d witnessed them first hand more than once, but just how smart she could be. Especially when it came to people.

His surprise must be clear on his face and Mai seems to follow his train of thought as she ends up snickering to herself. “Took you long enough,” She teases before going back to her novel. 

And, well, he never claimed to be quick-witted. So he smiles back at her and finds their vacation is surprisingly more relaxing than he’d previously thought it would be. When Azula sneaks back in during breakfast the next day, he offers her a relieved smile, and to his surprise, she returns it. 

* * *

When they return to the palace, there’s a scroll waiting for him on his bedside table. One that mentions him needing to learn of his great-grandfather’s demise, something which he already knows. Something that every child in the Fire Nation knows. He’d have thrown it away but Azula spots it before he can. 

“There’s a hidden message,” She tuts, heating the back of the parchment. 

Just before he can question how she knows that or even catch a glimpse of what it might say, she shoves it into his hands. “You don’t want to know what it says?”

“You forget,” She grins, slipping out of the room. “I already know everything.” She manages to throw over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

Zuko rolls his eyes, reading the instructions that have recently appeared. He goes about traversing the capital carefully until he can find what someone clearly wants him to. He just hopes this might help in some way, that he can gain more information than the scraps he picks up during war councils. Nobles and councilmen have a way of saying nothing with so many words. 

When he finds Sozin’s last entry, he reads over the reflections of a man on his death bed. The world knows how Sozin died peacefully, decades after his wife, and how his legacy was continued with his only son, Azulon. But Zuko uncovers what must have been purposefully hidden. 

He learns of two boys, growing side by side, both destined for greatness. Both destined for the other. Sozin had thought they would be unbeatable and would lead the world into the light held by the Fire Nation. And when Roku refuses, when he turns away with a warning, something had broken in the man. He’d did as planned anyways, gaining the colonies but losing his soulmate who’d stood at his side for so long. And solidifies that loss over twenty years later, choosing his nation’s greatness over Avatar Roku’s life. 

Sozin ends his entry with the emphasis on how meaningless soulmates are and what a weakness they present. It leaves Zuko reeling, wondering if his father ever read this, or if his great-grandfather had simply passed on the mentality until it reached Ozai. But his demise, in the end, is the same. Sozin still passes in his bed, decades after his wife, but just a few years after his soulmate. He’s managed to make those last few years matter, though.

* * *

He’d confronted Azula first, convinced that she’d played a hand in him uncovering the truth. It certainly seems like the type of underhanded thing she would do. Instead, she denies it, and he’s fairly certain that she isn’t lying.

So, Zuko ends up before Iroh. The cell isn’t as terrible as his old one and there’s even a pitcher of water that appears to be clean. “Did you send me this?”

Truthfully, he isn’t expecting an answer, but Iroh defies expectations more often than naught. “It was time you learned the truth.” His voice is rougher than he remembered and it squeezes at Zuko’s heart.

“Sozin died in his sleep. I already knew that.” It turned out to be the only thing he did know regarding the long revered Fire Lord. 

“You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko.” Iroh points out, finally, for the first time in months, raising his head to look at his nephew. “Sozin, on your father’s side. And Avatar Roku, on your mother’s.”

* * *

Zuko takes the crown and he runs. He doesn’t care if he’s seen, doesn’t care if he ends up banished, he runs. Until finally, he collapses at the only place he feels safe, his reflection a taunt in the small pond.

He holds the truth in his hands and tries not to mourn for everything he once knew. He’d begun to see the lies but this means he can no longer deny it. He can no longer play ignorant. It brings all those wilted soulflowers to the front of his mind and he wonders what they were ever meant to pay for. What cost they were justifying beyond senseless cruelty. 

But with the truth in his hands, as shaky as they are, it tells him that’s not all he is. He’s not simply atrocities upon atrocities and that shatters something within him. He’d always thought he was a monster because that’s what his family has bred for generations. Murderers, dictators, bigots, manipulators, _monsters_. 

Ursa had given him a chance though. One he doubts even she knew of. A chance to be good and more than his paternal ancestors. More than a spoiled, outspoken prince. He had Avatar Roku’s blood flowing through him and that had to mean something. Even if it only meant something poetic. 

He’d had a chance, one he’d wasted. And it was too late. He’d tainted that blood inside of him, ruined the goodness that he could’ve had. And he feels it now, tearing at his veins in a desperate attempt to escape the monster that cages it. He’s become his father, hasn’t he? 

_‘Do you even remember me?’_ A symphony of voices asks from the back of his mind. 

He sees himself, young and not yet scarred by life. So young. He’d wanted to be good like Mother. Wanted to bundle up everything he got from her and present it as a prize to his people. He’d hoped for so much as a child and he sits now, utterly alone.

When he sees his mother, she’s blurry with the passage of time. But hardly anything has changed. She holds goodness in her bones and heartbreak in her eyes. And she hides it all with kind smiles and fantastical plays of love. She’d given him everything to find the right path and he’d failed her. Failed in every way when it comes to what she wanted or expected of him. 

Sokka’s face bursts to life beneath his eyelids and this is his own form of torture. It must be. He remembers seeing that coldness melt away in his eyes, those icy glaciers fading into beaches that reminded him of home. More than that, he remembers feeling part of something, for the first time in his life. Belonging somewhere when all he knew was how to drift along the sides. 

He’d thrown that away _for nothing_. Had sold away his chance the second he sold away his soul. All for a man that couldn’t care less whether he lived or died. For a country so rotten from the inside it’d be a miracle if it ever righted itself. He’d lost everything in exchange for nothing. 

It bubbles beneath his skin, angry and festering, and it reminds him of the boy he’d once been. Only more broken, more hurt, than he thought he could be. There’s no one to blame this time. No one he can pin this on. He thought being banished as a child, because that’s what he was, had been hard. But he’d essentially banished himself from the last place he was safe and that… 

That does something to him. 

He feels like he’s on top of that hill again. And he feels it all, the antithesis of his very existence, the heaviness inside his ribcage as his heart beats against him in rebellion, and when he screams, it claws its way out of him. It ribs out of his throat, knocking against his teeth, and falling passed his lips like the poison he is. 

It doesn’t sound human to his ears and it causes his chest to seize. Causes his entire being to be caught up in his moment of weakness as he riots against the spirits. He’d always thought they hated him but he realizes that no, they don’t. Everything that has hurt him, scarred him, broken him, it’s been by his own hand. His own machinations. 

_‘Yes.’_ He screams back into the void. Because he remembers them all. Be it the people he’s helped and the people he’s hurt. Be it the versions of himself that he’s left behind. 

By the time the screaming stops, his throat is as raw as he, and a violent shiver travels down his spine. There’s a soft thud as he let’s go of the hairpiece and holds himself instead, hands clawing at robes that suffocate him now. 

He can’t breathe. Can hardly think straight as a sob rattles him so. The tears come as fast as his breath and this is a familiar feeling. Except, last time he’d held himself so tightly, as if he were fragile and would fall apart so simply, Uncle had been there. Uncle had eased his nails away from his own flesh and they’d ended up wrapped around him. 

Iroh’s not here now. He never would be. Because that was the ruination that Zuko brought with him. And he couldn’t blame that on his ancestors or blood any longer. It was his fault. All of it. 

He breaks and he breaks and he breaks. Leaves nothing but tatters of what used to be and broken glass that’ll linger for years to come, a reminder of this moment. And he almost gives up. Almost leaves himself like that, as ruined as everything else around him. 

But then he remembers the sacrifices made. The people lost, to the spirits or at the cruelty of his own hands. He doesn’t have the ability to continue for himself but he owes them something. He owes them everything.

Zuko repays his debts by piecing himself together again. There are pieces missing, pieces that he’ll never get back, and the edges are chipped. They’ll never go back to what they used to be. He’ll never be what he used to be. 

When he finally faces the world, the reality he has come to fully understand, he does so with hands that still shake. When he stands once more, he realizes not only does he have his mother’s heart, he has her eyes. But he has his father’s touch and that overshadows it all. 

* * *

He hears about it through the grapevine first. A day will come when they lose their inner fire, they say. The day of the black sun. He doesn’t believe it until Azula brings it up. 

“Things will be set in motion. What side will you take?’ She questions, Mai and Ty Lee at her side. When he meets her eyes, he says nothing, lets the weighted silence answer for him. She sighs, disappointed but not surprised. “Will you not be persuaded otherwise?”

“Not likely.” He shrugs, casting wary looks towards her friends. She’s never been so open like this in front of them. Truthfully, their loyalties likely go to the princess rather than the nation. Azula wouldn’t be so candid otherwise. “I know you need me here but…”

“It’ll be an inconvenience, certainly,” She huffs. “But I’ll manage. I expect you to return, brother.”

Zuko would like to say that he will but he wonders if he’ll even manage to escape at all. “If I don’t, as you said, you’ll manage.”

A look is shared between the girls before Azula steps forward, as dangerous and ferocious as a dragon. “I will say this once and only once. You will return home because only one of us is meant for the throne.”

Its enough of admittance to startle him, especially with how straightforward it is. He’d like to think it’s his own influence but he won’t give himself so much credit. “I’d have thought you’d want me out of the way. Claim it for yourself.”

“To rule, one must make many compromises and appease the people. Does that truly sound like me, Zuzu?” She scoffs, head held high like being the Firelady would be below her. “Besides, I have much more fun in the shadows.”

Which, yeah, when said like that, he can see it. “Can’t you pronounce Zuko already?”

“Of course, but it doesn’t get under your skin quite so much, now does it?” Azula smiles with her teeth bared, as if ready to strike at any given moment. For once, he feels at ease at such a display from her. 

And so, they begin to plot, Azula offering anything she thinks is worth knowing. It leads to him learning just how oblivious he is and how many eyes she has around the world. He finds out about Ozai’s plan to be dubbed the Phoenix King sooner than anyone would like. It’s the first time he thinks something through and it feels like this time, it won’t backfire. 

The day of the black sun is what they wait for, together. While everyone else will go into hiding, they’ll use their time wisely. And as the days get closer, Zuko wonders what led to Azula becoming what she has. If she was always heading to be the person she is or if it was something else. Then he realizes she could say the same about him and he lets it go. He’s just fortunate that she gives a shit about him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of reveals. Lemme know what you think about them! This chapter was meant to be longer but I figured y'all deserved something for waiting so long! Hopefully, the next chapter won't take so long but we'll see.
> 
> Update: I wrote a Suki/Toph oneshot of when the met if y’all are interested. It’s part of the series so it should be easy to find!!


	12. get your kicks on a live wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Black Sun comes and Zuko faces the people he needs to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka do be bitter in this one but that’s okay because I would be too. Also, I’d like to think this chapter is leagues better than the last. Don’t be surprised if I rewrite that shit one day lmao

_“Take care to pack your things ahead of time. And when it comes time for you to leave, do not hesitate. Time is of the essence and if you are caught, even my influence will not be enough to save you.”_

Azula’s plan and precautions play on repeat in his mind as he packs, just as they have for the days leading up to the Black Sun. Zuko would write it down over and over again if he could, just to go over it, to make sure he doesn’t misstep. For now, he folds clothes he thinks might be sturdy into a runaway sack. He includes Avatar Roku’s hairpiece, the crown both of his grandfathers once wore, and the engraved pearl dagger. 

He would’ve packed before but Azula had stopped him, told him of the risk he’d be in if a servant were to find it. But now is fine. It’s not as if he’ll sleep any, not with the day he has ahead of him. Just some light treason. 

Truthfully, he’s fretting about Iroh as well. He trusts Azula to handle it but a million what-if scenarios rush through his mind. The fact he trusts his sister at all is still akin to whiplash but he’s resigned himself to being surprised by anything. That happens after you learn everything you thought you knew was just an elaborate lie. 

A knock on the door is what brings him out of it and he nearly panics then and there, rushing to cover his things with his blankets. When he does open the door, it’s not a maid ready to yell his crimes nor his father to call him out on what they’re planning. It’s just Azula. 

“Expecting someone else?” She taunts, easily brushing passed him. She creeps into his room like a spider might crawl into its web and he wonders who she’s tangled up tonight. 

He still rolls his eyes, though. Even in the presence of someone who can and would ruin his entire existence if she felt like it. “Just the cavalry.”

“Relax,” She drawls, unveiling his half-packed belongings. “You know this has to be done by morning, yes?”

“I’m working on it!” Zuko snaps, striding back to his bed and snatching his things away from her greedy hands. “If you’re here to check on me, I’m fine! I don’t need a babysitter.”

She levels him with a look that has him flushing in indignation. He doesn’t need a damn babysitter. He’s just fine on his own. So, he goes to show her he doesn’t need supervision and continues his packing with renewed vigor as she watches on.

“So,” She trails off, picking at her nails that double as claws. “You’re ready?”

He shrugs, tying closed his bag. “I’m packed, aren’t I?”

“I meant, are you ready to face them? After Ba Sing Se?” She asks clearer this time, an elegant brow raised as she looks him up and down, as if something will give away his answer. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t something he purposely thought about. That was more of a handle-it-when-it-happened sort of situation. If he put too much thought into it, he knew he’d only psych himself up. “Not at all.”

She snorts and it’s almost crass in its sound, so unlike everything he’s come to associate with his sister these days. “Oh, Zuzu. You’d be endearing if you didn’t frustrate me as often as you do.”

“You’d be nice if you weren’t so underhanded about it,” He shoots right back, surprising even himself with such a comment. He chalks it up to prolonged exposure to Azula. 

“Yes, well, nothing in life is for free. That includes my pleasantries.” She snarks, full of bitter sweetness and predatory smiles. 

He debates commenting with the same veiled tone but then he hesitates. It occurs to him, once more, this is his last night here. And he looks at his sister, unguarded in a rare show of trust he realizes. When he’d first come home, he allowed himself to truly look at and recognize Azula. He’d seen her in all of her barely contained vitriol and saw an image of Ursa. But it had been so distorted and twisted in an attempt to mirror Ozai’s instead. 

It was all an act. He knows that now. Knows how controlled her every action is. But it doesn’t stop the terrifying thought that she could have ended up like that. A voice in the back of his head, the one often speaking with his fears, tells him she still could be that girl. She could unravel further and further until she spiraled out of control. Until she lost herself entirely in an attempt to be the perfect daughter. 

Now, he looks at her, and he thinks of the burn around her arm. Hidden away under the finest of silks. He wonders what his father’s perfect child could have done to warrant such a thing but then figures it doesn’t quite matter. The punishment never fits the crime when it comes to Ozai. 

“Come with me.” He finds himself saying though he doesn’t take it back. Not with the familiar worry worming it’s way against his heart. He gets to leave this place but she’ll be stuck here. No one but herself to protect her. 

She smiles the smile their mother often had. One that always spoke of truths that were better to not be spoken. Truths he couldn’t possibly fathom just yet. “I don’t think I will, dear brother of mine.”

“It’ll be safer.” He tries to point out but finds that he has to rethink such a sentiment. Nothing is safe from the Fire Nation, not even itself. At the very least, she’ll be able to breathe without being under their father’s thumb. 

Azula sighs, looking to the covered arm as if she knows the reason that drives his argument. “I know what I’m doing, so trust that. Father might have burned me once but he will _never_ get that chance again. I won’t let him.”

He’s envious of her conviction, wishes he could say such a thing with so much certainty, but he can’t. Instead, he grows even more curious, as morbid as it is. “What… happened?”

There’s a shutter in her eyes and he thinks if he could look hard enough, he might see the memory play out in her eyes. “You did.”

“What?” He startles back, something like guilt beginning to sink into the skin around his throat, pulling until he’s forced to take gasped breaths. 

She looks back at him and she’s ferocious in her stance even as that fracture makes itself known. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was his family's curse to break things, even themselves. “I had front row seats when Father made you an example, Zuko. And you were gone before I even had a chance to say goodbye or something as equally sentimental. You and Uncle both. I… I didn’t handle it as well as I could have. And Father would not have someone, especially a little girl, criticize him for his actions.”

“To question the Fire Lord is to question Agni himself,” He says, the words an echo of his childhood, of what everyone in the nation was born knowing. It was treason otherwise and that came with consequences. Consequences him and his sister apparently both bore. 

She nods, taking a shuttered breath before squaring her shoulders and meeting him head-on. “Which is why it should be you upon the throne. Father has forgotten his humanity and mistaken it for divinity. And you, brother, are painfully human.”

“And you’re not?” He asks in return, fighting off the overwhelming weight that makes itself home on his chest whenever his future is brought up. 

Azula smirks and it reminds him how dangerous she can be. “I will speak for no one but myself. Especially not for a God who sees children burned in his name.”

He’s never been so glad for the lack of people around. She’d already be killed for not only speaking against Ozai but plotting as well. To speak against Agni? She’d be written out of the family and the Fire Sages themselves would make sure history forgets her name. Her entire existence. 

Still, he looks at the woman she’s grown to be, and he hopes against hope this isn’t the last time he ever sees her. Be it because he’s struck down or she is. “I’m going to miss you, as crazy as you are.”

“Of course you will,” She tuts, flipped her hair over her shoulder. But then she softens at his look and gives a show of rolling her eyes. “I suppose I will too. You’ve been amusing to watch.”

He laughs and it’s throaty and warm and he feels something close to _light_ for the first time in a while. “Believe me when I say I share the sentiment.”

It manages to get a breathy chuckle from her and she even offers a small smile. “I suppose this is a good note to leave on for tonight. Stick to the plan, Zuzu, and everything will work out.”

“I will.” He promises as she leaves, not bothering to wait for a dismissal despite what customs might call for. And it strikes him that yes, he really will miss her. 

* * *

Ozai is escorted underground, passed the decoy bunker, and into the real one. Azula, as planned, waits in the decoy for the invasion to inevitably reach her. And Zuko does his best to stick to the script and sneak away without notice. He struggles though and this is why Azula had drilled the plan into his head, wary of his impulsive nature. 

He forces himself to trust her when it comes to Iroh, no matter how desperately he wants to double-check. And he almost forces himself to follow through with the plan. Almost. 

The deciding factor, of all things, is a family portrait that lurks like a ghost in the corridor. He would have left had he not seen it, not obsessed over it and what they could have been, and that cursed impulsive nature takes over in true Zuko fashion as he traverses the tunnels beneath the palace. 

One would have expected anger to be rushing through his veins but it isn’t. He’s clearer than he ever thought he’d be in such a situation. And while he knows this is potentially a very bad idea, he has to do this. He probably won’t ever see his father after today. He needs closure and whether or not Ozai wants him to have it doesn’t matter. He’ll embrace his family’s greed and take what he wants just this once. 

When he storms into the room, he no longer sees a towering man that commands fear and respect like they’re weapons. Instead, he thinks of what Azula had mentioned just the previous night. Of how he is nothing more than a man playing Agni when he has no right to. 

“What is this, Prince Zuko?” Ozai questions, narrowed eyes full of brittle fires. 

Zuko doesn’t cower though. He’s fought his way here, in every way imaginable, and he’ll be damned if he lets his father, his Fire Lord, try to take that away from him. “I’ve come to tell you that I’m leaving. I’m going to help the Avatar in any way I can and put an end to this war.”

He’s quiet, eerily so, for a moment too long before responding. And when he does, there’s a lilt to his voice. “Is that so? I wish I could say I’m surprised by this treachery but you’ve always taken after my fool of a brother. You telling me this during the eclipse only further proves that.”

“I am proud to follow after Uncle Iroh. And I only hope I can be half the man he is.” Zuko states, head raised high as he faces the man that haunts the nightmares of the world. “He’s a better father than you ever were. And he knows how to love without breaking people.”

“Love is a luxury that costs more than it's worth,” He spits out, snarling. He looks every bit a ferocious, dangerous dragon. Like the ones painted from the past, before his family killed every last one. 

“You’re wrong.” He doesn’t yell it, doesn’t argue, simply corrects the man that claims to know better than all. “Having no soulmarks doesn’t make someone incapable of love. It’s fear of love that does and you’re woven so tightly with fears, I can’t help but pity you.”

“I’d stop there if I were you, _boy_.” He warns deeply, voice cutting through the air like thunder. 

“But you’re not me. I’m nothing like you. I would never break someone just to see if I could. I wouldn’t pit my children against each other so they would feel as alone as you do,” Zuko continues, voice raspy with emotion. “And I would _never_ burn a child begging for mercy and love. So you can continue burning the world until it mirrors the husk of a man you are. But know that your rule _will_ come to an end.”

“Then make sure of it yourself! There are no guards and I am unarmed! You have the chance to end this now. Or will you continue to be the disappointment you were born as?” Ozai lashes out and Zuko has no doubt that if he could firebend, there would be flames spitting from his lips. 

He doesn’t rise to the bait. Doesn’t even fall back from it as he might have even just weeks ago. “My destiny no longer answers to you. What happens to you is up to the Avatar. I hope, for your sake, he is more merciful than you.”

Zuko knows he is. Even from the brief moments spent in his company, he knows Aang is like his Uncle. Too kind for his own good. Too good in general. And he doesn’t envy the younger boy for the task ahead of him. He certainly doesn’t envy him on this day, knowing how the invasion will play out already. They’ll be stopped but hopefully, they can retreat in time. 

If there was not a schedule to at least try to keep to, if his sister was not the one to stay behind today, Zuko would seek justice for the pain Azula was put through at their father’s hands. He’d share how proud he is to see her dismantle Ozai’s loyalties and replace them with her own, all under his nose. But he can’t and because of that, he prepares to leave. 

“This is goodbye.” He says, turning on his heels. 

“So soon?” Ozai questions with mock sincerity. “We haven’t even gotten to your mother yet.”

Everything freezes inside of him. He staggers in his step and his brain tries to catch up. He’s not dumb. He knows it’s a ploy. But maybe there’s something he could gain from it. Something like the knowledge of what happened to his mother. He wants to stay. He wants to uncover the truth of what happened all those years ago more desperately than anything he’s ever known. 

But then he thinks of the ticking clock. He could be trapped here if he stays too long. He could miss his chance and then everything his sister had worked for would be wasted. Besides, he’d been selfish enough for one day. He can’t do this. Maybe one day he can revisit the clawing curiosity of his mother but that day cannot be today. 

His eyes burn in tandem with the nails digging into his palms. And he moves jerkily as he opens the doors, everything in him resisting the movement. But he pushes through it. 

He feels it just as the door opens. It feels like the sound of a wick being lit and something loosens in his chest. And he knows if he’d stayed a minute longer, he’d be dead. Because the air tingles just as he realizes what's happening and his father spits out how foolish Zuko is.

He takes the brunt of the attack as best he can, lightning scraping out his insides to make room for itself as it pours into him. And he summons all that he can of Iroh and his teachings as he spins around and forces it back out. He knows he could strike his father down, go for the kill just as he had, but he doesn’t. Because he hadn’t been lying earlier when he said what happened to Ozai was up to the Avatar. 

Instead, he aims below his feet, and the man soars into the wall at his back. Zuko doesn’t wait to see his response, escaping in the billows of smoke that begin to suffocate the room. His body aches and he feels hollower than he did but that’s okay. He’d take that over never having gotten closure any day. 

He forces his body to run through the tunnels, needing to get out before it’s too late, and he imagines how pissed Azula would be at him if she knew what he’d done. It brings a smile to his face and he wonders what he must look like right now. A runaway prince with smoking hands and a wild smile. He probably looks crazy. 

Though it turns out, he doesn’t need to imagine how Azula would react. Because he runs into her not too long after, cornered by the group he’d intended to hunt down after the invasion. Keyword being after. 

Her hands are up in the air, head held high despite being faced with the Avatar, the greatest earthbender to ever live, and her brother’s own soulmate. They look equal parts confused and furious and he can’t help but sympathize with them there. 

The smaller girl is the first one to turn his way and he finds himself dragged forward by the earth that moves beneath his feet. He would have fallen over had he not remembered to lower himself. Though he doubts he should care about such things in the situation he’s found himself in. 

Azula looks at him with wild, disbelieving eyes and he braces himself as she opens her mouth. “What are you still doing here?! You said you remembered the plan! You’re supposed to be gone by now, dammit!”

“I know,” He mumbles, taking in the sight of the individuals that he’d been fighting last time he saw them. “I was sidetracked.”

Aang looks taller, if only by a few inches. And there’s some baby fat missing from his cheeks, hinting to the cheekbones he must be growing into. There’s a lack of childishness in his movements that has Zuko mourning for him and the price this war has cost him. 

The younger girl, who must be Toph, looks his way but not directly at him. Right. She can see with her feet because she’s blind. Or something along those lines. Up close, he can see she’s even younger than Aang, and that doesn’t sit so comfortably on his conscience. Though, something about her stance reminds him of a younger Azula. 

And finally, his eyes flicker to the boy he lost at his own hands. His hair has grown out and the curls are as gentle as his eyes once were. Now, they’re hardened in the face of him. As if he’s a threat. Even before Ba Sing Se, he hadn’t looked at him like that. And despite these things, despite the overly apparent distrust, Zuko finds his heart breaking at the beauty of him alone. 

He’d almost forgotten how pale those flowers were against Sokka’s warmer skin. What’s worse, he’d almost forgotten how much he’d marred Sokka with his own faults. He’s made him into a tapestry of contradictory tones. 

“What did you do?” Azula seethes, pulling him away from his thoughts. 

He doesn’t want to answer her because he knows what he did was stupid. But he wouldn’t change his actions even if given the option. Despite how stupid he might have been, he’s still proud of himself. “Said goodbye.” He answers plainly. 

If he weren’t looking at her, if he didn’t know her, he would’ve missed the minuscule fear that flashes in her eyes. “You could have been killed.” 

“I wasn’t.” He assures her, not daring to mention how his body still tingles and how close he’d come to doing just that. 

“Alright, enough! We need to go, now. We’re too late!” Aang shouts out, slamming the bottom of his staff against the ground. 

“Not yet,” Sokka disagrees, eyes dark as he raises the sharp end of his boomerang at Azula. “She still hasn’t told us where Suki is.”

Just like that, Azula’s mask slips into place. He watches as she goes back to the cold, calculated person he thought she solely was. And while she may be those things, there are so many other sides of her, even he gets dizzy trying to keep track sometimes. “Perhaps you should listen to the child and leave while you can.”

“What about you, ponytail?” Toph asks, pointing his way. 

He frowns, thinking about commenting on his lack of ponytails, how it was never a ponytail to begin with, but thinks otherwise. “Who’s Suki?”

“You burned her village down,” Sokka answers, finally addressing him. And by the spirits, he’d thought his eyes were hardened, but his voice is even more so. 

“Oh,” He swallows thickly but still tries to see if he remembers anyone. “The… the warriors?”

“The Kyoshi Warriors,” Aang says, filling in the gaps. 

There’s some recognition now. He remembers, faintly, of Sokka telling him about her. Not only is she a leader of them, but she’s also Toph’s soulmate if he’s to trust his memory. She’d be dangerous. He turns to his sister, who’s allowed herself to be restrained by earth, and she gives a faint nod that tells him his suspicions are correct. “She’d be at the Boiling Rock, most likely.”

“Is that true?” Toph asks Azula. 

The older girl just shrugs with a smirk. “Who knows?”

“We at least have something to work with now. We have to go!” Aang interjects as the sound of a stampede begins to travel throughout the tunnels. 

Toph sighs but nods her head. “He’s right.” 

“What do we do with them then?” Sokka questions and by his tone, Zuko wouldn’t say it was far fetched if the other boy would have them sink to the bottom of the ocean just to get rid of them. 

“Leave them?” Aang supposes. 

“Good idea, if you want those flowers on your face to wilt.” Azula scoffs, breaking free of her restraints. The others rush to get into fighting stances but she holds her hands up in surrender, as if she’s harmless that way. 

“And what do you mean by that?” Sokka asks cautiously. 

“What I mean is that my brother probably did something utterly reckless and if he’s caught, he will be killed.” She explains and his cheeks flush as he’s talked about like a child would be. 

“Let me guess, you want us to take him? So he can spy on us and come running back to tell you our secrets?” Toph laughs bitterly, shaking her head in disbelief. “No thanks, crazy. Keep your brother alive yourself.”

“Zuko? Why don’t you tell them what you did? Oh, and don’t worry, he’s a terrible liar.” She offers them a saccharine smile and it looks so displaced he has to look away. 

“I am not,” He bites out, to which the blind girl snorts at. 

“He is.” She grins. 

“All I did was tell Ozai that I’m leaving to… to join your efforts in the war.” He tries to word it to be better than it is. So he doesn’t sound like he’s clawing his way to them, that he doesn’t seem like a child with big hopes and bigger dreams, all of which are unrealistic. 

They all turn to Toph and she gives a thumbs up, giving him the all-clear. And then they all face him with wide eyes, even Azula. It’s Sokka who breaks the silence first. “You’ve got one hell of a death wish.”

“It seems he does,” Azula grounds out. 

“So we take him with us?” Aang asks his group hesitantly. “Because we have to make up our minds fast and despite everything, I don’t want him dead. Not when we could’ve prevented it.”

“I’m with twinkle toes. We can always leave him on the side of the road too.” Toph smiles sweetly at him and he’d be worried if what she’d said wouldn’t be a kinder fate than the one that would surely greet him if he stayed. 

“Fuck, fine. But if you make one wrong move, it won’t be the Fire Lord you have to worry about.” Sokka snarls and he can picture it quite easily, especially when he’s got such a look in his eyes. 

Zuko swallows back his relief and lowers his head to imitate a bow the best he can while restrained. “Thank you.”

“You should probably go now.” Azula reminds them with a low drawl. 

“Right.” They share a glance and before Zuko can question what the plan is, he’s being carted away by the back of his shirt, Toph’s small fist holding the fabric. “Let’s go, hot stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this finished a lot sooner than I thought I would so yay! Not a lot happened but a lot happened, you know? Anyways, the scene with Ozai is not nearly as stunning as it is in the show. Nothing can ever top that. But I did try my hand at it and hopefully it didn't disappoint. I'm going to miss writing Azula ngl. She's kinda been my favorite to write recently. Oh well, I can just write a oneshot of her and Ty Lee. Speaking of, I wrote a oneshot of Toph and Suki meeting if anyone is interested. It's just the next part of the series. Check it out if you haven't!


	13. looking at you has me yearning for then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka adjusts to the Zuko parasite that has latched onto the GAang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the month break but I’ve returned with the bois!

Appa serves as their way of getaway and that’s the issue for Sokka. It’s  _ just  _ them and his stomach does painful flips as they make their grand escape. He watches the ragtag army they’d pieced together go down fighting all from the safe confines of Appa’s saddle and it makes something angry fester in his chest. 

He tries not to think of his tribesmen down there. Of the friends they’d brought into this. He has to close his eyes at the thoughts of what the Fire Lord will do to them, too sick to stomach it. His failure sits heavy around his neck even as he tries to block it out. To focus on them getting to safety. 

In a desperate attempt not to let himself be consumed by this clawing feeling, he tries to find a silver lining instead. It’s a surprisingly optimistic way of thinking for him but he’s more than willing to blame it on prolonged exposure to Aang. And, well, there is some good. It’s barely even worth mentioning but it’s something. 

For one, they escaped mostly whole and healthy. Minus the few new bruises. They even managed to help a few people on the way out, getting them a safe distance away to escape. It meant more than just them were safe. It meant they managed to help at least a few of the people they’d dragged into this mess. 

The sullen prince who looked to be attempting to shrink within himself could be counted as one such person. Even with his clear discomfort and deep frown. As if he was disappointed in how things turned out. As if he had any right to be. It wasn’t his people being senselessly sacrificed right now. No, it was his people that were in the wrong in the first place 

And, oh, that angry beast is back again to rear its ugly head. Just something else he can blame Zuko for. He’s going to run out of mental space if the list keeps growing like this. Let’s see, Zuko and his sister got in the way of getting to Ozai. Which means he cost them today. And that leads to him costing them the entire war. So, yep, Zuko doomed them all. Spirits, he’s the worst. 

Speaking of, the entitled boy finally raises his head, daring to look at any of them. His eyes stop on Sokka, clearly surprised to find him already looking his way. Sokka, already fed up with firebending assholes for this century, maybe even the next, doesn’t look away. Instead, he narrows his eyes and tries to channel all the unsaid words, the ones that he’d fling out in a fit of anger, the type that would leave scars he wouldn’t have to wear. 

Zuko apparently gets the message, ducking his head low and going back to shrinking within himself. Probably trying to be the first person in existence to manage to stop existing at will. If he could do the same for the rest of his equally awful family, that’d be great. Sokka hopes he achieves those goals. Look at him, being supportive. More than Zuko could say about himself. 

Maybe he should go back to thinking optimistically. While hating Zuko might distract him from what happened, he doubts it’s healthy in the long run. And spirits forbid he develops unhealthy coping habits. He didn’t want to become Zuko, after all. 

Alright, fine. He lets out a sigh, pushing the prince far from his mind as he focuses on the upcoming journey ahead of them. 

* * *

To no one's surprise, it’s Katara who finally addresses the polar bear dog in the room. Or maybe just the firebender. It’s well after their escape, everyone getting off of Appa and continuing the trek on foot. And all of that means Katara has easy access if she needs to dig a grave. 

He’s made the mistake of drawing her attention when he’s stumbled, nearly losing his footing but catching himself at the last second. It was enough movement to catch her eye. And Sokka saw the gears turning in his sister’s head, counting down to the second that she finally erupted. 

“Tell me again,” She begins, loudly. “Why is he here? Because I thought the goal was locking him and his family away?” 

It’s moments like these, when her voice grows hard like that but she’s plastering a smile on her face out of pure spite, that she reminds him far too much of Gran-Gran. He feels a shiver go down his spine at the reminder of getting in trouble as a kid. 

Zuko doesn’t seem to have figured out what to do in this situation, clearly trying to figure out if he should respond or not. In the end, he doesn’t, and it’s probably for the best. Just the sight of him is enough to set everyone on edge. He doubted the sound of the boy actually talking would help matters. No, it was better he kept trying not to exist. 

The only one brave enough to actually answer is Aang. He counters her thinly veiled anger easily with his gentle tone. “He’s gotta have some information. Plus, he would’ve been killed for defecting to our side, Katara. There’s been enough loss for one day.”

She softens some. “I hardly doubt he’d be killed. But do we really have to bring him with us? Can’t we just leave him somewhere?”

“Where would you suggest, sweet cheeks?” Toph snorts, gesturing around them. 

It’s a fair point. While there’s plenty of space to just abandon the prince, there’s none that won’t lead to him not being able to track them down. The grassy hills are far too open. And far too wide. Sokka already regretted climbing off Appa. Scratch that, he regretted climbing out of bed this morning. 

“The bottom of the ocean,” Katara mumbled beneath her breath. It’s not quiet enough for them to not hear, though. That much is clear when Zuko tenses even further. And like a piranha shark getting a sniff of blood, she goes after the wounded animal. “You should’ve stayed in the capital with the rest of your awful family. You’re all perfect for each other, really.”

At this, Toph shakes her head. “The awfulness not including your uncle. He’s kind of cool!”

Well, he had to agree with Toph there. The man had even helped them escape the Earth Kingdom when his nephew had been less than helpful. Iroh was cool even if the rest of the family was just, well, awful. 

“I concur.” He pipes up, keeping his gaze ahead and not on the prince. 

“You were so desperate to run to your father last time. Even after everything. So you’ll have to excuse us if we’re suspicious.” She bites out, only ending there at her soulmate’s soft look of warning. 

When he does risk a glance back at the prince, he can see why. He’s drawn so tight that he wonders how he hasn’t shattered from the pressure alone. It occurs to him then that maybe Zuko was never meant to hold so much on his shoulders. Even with that softer boy he’d known being thoroughly destroyed in his eyes, it might still apply to this equally fragile, more anxious, untrustworthy prince. 

Yet, even if he was on the other side, even if he was part of the nation that had taken and burned so much of the world, he still had to be affected by the war. Not for the first time, he wonders at the scar across his face, and if it’s origins are related to the war like most scars are these days. 

“Azula plans to extract Ozai from the throne soon.” Zuko blurts out, the words seeming to surprise even him. 

They all pause, no one daring to take another step. With Toph’s sharp nod, they can confirm its truth. And it’s a terrifying thought to have, Azula working her way to the throne and against her father as she apparently is. 

“What?” Aang still questions, eyes wide. 

“Ozai is awful, yes. But Azula,” He trails off, his bottom lips between his teeth. “She has her moments but she’s not. Completely awful, I mean. She’s on your side.”

It’s the wrong matter to finally speak up to, if Katara’s furrowed brows are to go by. “Yeah, cause the many attempted murders and colonization of the Earth Kingdom really just convey that for us!”

He cringes back at that but doesn’t back down to Sokka’s surprise. “All on Ozai’s orders.”

“Right,” Katara laughs, bitter and humorless. “So you both just do whatever Daddy says? And that excuses everything?”

“Of course not!” He exclaims, as if insulted at just the thought. “But it’s a complicated situation. Ozai… he isn’t to be disobeyed. She had a role to fill but she’s trying to counter those actions where she can.”

Katara stalks toward the prince, a dangerous look in her eyes that has them ready to pull her back. “And what is this? A role? An order that can’t be disobeyed?” She mocks, lips curling as he takes a step back. “Because I’m not fooled, not for a second. None of us are. So let me make this clear to you. I’d watch you drown if given the choice. If you fuck up, it’s a choice I’ll happily make. Do I make myself clear?”

He nods quickly. 

“Good. Now, in the meantime, try to help me forget you’re even here.” She twirls back around on her heels and goes back to walking.

Aang rushes to her side, hand on her upper arm and voice too low to hear. Sokka chooses to ignore the seemingly intimate moment between them. He watches the prince instead and how he’s grown pale. He doesn’t look surprised, maybe just a little shaken. 

He stomps down the urge that wants to check on him. See if he’s alright. Or even just where his head is at. Sokka sighs and keeps walking. 

* * *

Scaling down the side of a mountain is something he hasn’t thought they’d be doing today. Then again, that can be applied to quite a lot about the events that’s happened. It’s late and it’s long grown dark though. It means it’s a tricky feat to pull off. 

Toph does her best to help them, offering easy passage for Appa. But it’s the most she can do with little sleep, exhaustion, and her concentration on moving the several tons that is a flying bison. So Sokka puts his efforts into helping her especially. 

They’re all exceedingly careful, no one willing to take another chance today. Especially not when they’re facing such a fatal drop. He tries not to think of the thousands of miles he’d fall if his grip slipped. It wouldn’t just be him going down, it would be Toph as well. And potentially Appa if she hadn’t finished helping him. 

Right. Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he lets out a breath of relief once his feet meet solid ground. Toph does the same and the ground beneath Appa melds back into the side of the mountain. 

“Great, we’re here! Now goodnight!” Toph calls out, ready to stalk off and probably sleep tomorrow away. 

Katara huffs, pulling her back to their group with a hand on her shoulder. “Not quite yet. We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”

“I’m on board for sleeping.” Sokka can’t help but say, more inclined to follow Toph’s actions than his sisters. To be fair, that’s typically the case anyways. 

“The Fire Lord isn’t going anywhere. At least not for tonight. Why don’t we get some rest and then reconvene in the morning?” Aang suggests, just as a soft thud lands. 

It reminds them of the prince in their presence and Sokka’s already sighing, knowing the issue this’ll present. Sure enough, Katara narrows her eyes. “What do we do about him?”

“I’m sure sparky won’t slit our throats in our sleep just yet.” Toph figures with a shrug. 

“I don’t even have a knife on me.” Zuko frowns, patting his pockets as if to give proof to such a claim. 

“Look, if it’s an issue, we can take watch. We probably should anyways, jerk or no jerk.” Sokka suspects there will be scouts sent out, possibly on Azula’s orders or her father’s, but he’s not willing to rely on luck to keep them safe. “I’ll even take the first watch.”

“Then I’ll go after you,” Aang offers with a pat on the back and a warm smile. “We all need sleep so we should probably set up camp.”

“Zuko,” Katara calls out, so much venom laced in his name that it sounds like it’s an insult. “You can serve to be useful and start the fire.”

He isn’t the only one surprised. Sokka didn’t think Zuko and fire would be a good mix for anyone right now. It would set them on edge too much. But, if Katara was willing to oversee it, then it would be fine. It would be a test, surely, but it’ll work out. Hopefully without any burns. Or crying. 

“I’ll get on it.” Zuko goes on like the perfect little soldier, collecting any debris he can use for a fire. He hesitates in his next step, looking back at the girl. “I’ll have to keep close to it to keep the fire going all night. So you might want to spread out some.”

It’s an unneeded statement. At least, it is for Sokka. He’d already planned on sleeping as far away as possible from the other boy. So he watches him go, settling into a spot with a good vantage point. 

Aang and Katara make themselves cozy, their close proximity toeing the line between intimate and respectable. He’ll excuse it for today. Toph secludes herself away to no one's surprise and he finds an odd comfort in that. In the fact that not much has changed in their group dynamics. Then again, Toph always has been the resilient one in the group. 

He tries not to take notice in Zuko but it’s late and he’s tired and he can’t help his wandering brain. Or his eyes. He watches the boy put together a little fire, the flames devouring everything he offered it but still burning on. And, right, he’s controlling the flames. That’s… something he can’t afford to think too hard ok right now. 

Still, he looks sickly in the fire’s light. Dark bags beneath his eyes, his cheeks not as full as they had been, and even his hair seeming limp as opposed to the fluff that Sokka remembered. A part of him wants to be concerned but a larger, more rational part, drowns that voice out easily. 

He looks away, fingertips digging into the side of his thighs to get rid of the phantom feeling of soft, short locks and the edges of a burn. He already regrets bringing Zuko with them so whatever happens after today, he figures it’ll be interesting. Especially with Katara’s mother hen tendencies being dialed up to eleven with protectiveness. He’ll have to talk to her about that. Even if part of him relished in the way Zuko squirmed under her gaze. 

* * *

“Absolutely not!” Katara cries out, eyes wide and hands thrown into the air. “Are you forgetting how quick he is to stab people in the back?! First Sokka, then his own family, and you want to give him the chance to do it again?! No!”

“Look, I’m just saying, if we really are back to square one, it’s worth considering!” Toph defends just as loudly. 

Aang nods in agreement and Katara makes a wounded noise as if that alone is a betrayal. “I get it’s not a good plan but it’s the only one we got. There’s not exactly an abundance of firebenders just lying around right now. Especially not ones willing to teach me.”

“What about his uncle?” Katara desperately considers aloud. 

“In prison,” Sokka explains shortly. That’s the last he heard, anyways. 

“Actually,” Zuko quietly interjects. “Azula helped him escape during the invasion.”

“Do you know where we could find him?” Aang asks. 

He shakes his head, looking back down. “No. We haven’t exactly been on speaking terms.”

At this, Sokka can’t help but scoff. “I wonder why.” That has him shrinking in on himself like he’d been trying to do the day before and he counts it as a win for now. “So, Iroh is a no go. Not in prison but MIA. Anyone else?”

“Jeong Jeong?” Aang suggests weakly. 

Toph expression turns incredulous, her frown only deepening. “Who?”

“The admiral who deserted? You met him?” Zuko gasps, taking a few steps closer to them. 

“Yeah, he tried to teach me firebending before. It… didn’t go so well. But we can try again, can’t we?” Aang reasons. 

Zuko shakes his head and Katara isn’t the only one glaring when Aang’s smile dims at the action. “I doubt he’s willing to let himself be found again. He’s good at disappearing.”

“Right. So another old guy being MIA. That leaves Zuko. Again!” Toph points out, gesturing to the awkward teen like she’s won this argument. And, well, maybe she had.

Katara covers her face with a sigh. “I don’t like this.” 

“No one does,” Aang reminds her gently. “But we do what we have to do and then it’s over. We’ll make it work.”

“Your right. The both of you. Okay. Fine. We do this and it’s over.” Katara reiterates, the words spoken like a mantra. He doesn’t doubt she’s repeating them over and over in her head until they lose any and all meaning.

“Zuko, will you be willing to teach me firebending?” Aang finally asks in a traditional bow, even with Katara telling him it wasn’t needed. 

Zuko, to their surprise, bows even lower. “It would be an honor, Avatar.”

“If you hurt him, if there’s ever an  _ accident _ ,” Katara trails off, eyes burning more than any fire ever could. “I’ll make you regret ever breathing.”

“Chill out, sugar queen. He gets it.” Toph snickers, dragging the prince off by his wrist. “Now I’m gonna use Sparky as my seeing goat dog. If anyone dies, just holler!”

The panic that flashes across Zuko’s face is worth more than Sokka even knows. It has him chuckling as he watches the two walk off. The irony is too funny not to laugh at. “Let’s hope your new firebending teacher doesn’t run away.”

“I think Toph can handle him.” Aang grins, turning to face his soulmate. “How about we practice some? The water fixtures shouldn’t be too bad.”

It has the tense lines in her face disappear and for that alone, Sokka could thank him. “That sounds perfect. Let’s check them out.”

* * *

  
Domesticity settles over them in a way that has Sokka scratching at his skin. He’s thankful for the reprieve, he is, but he’s able to recognize the calm before the storm now. And these past few days have been just that. 

The routine is what unsettles Sokka the most, mainly because it left him with little to do while everyone practiced their bending. Outside of keeping watch, there wasn’t much he actually did. Maybe occupying a bored Momo and Appa but other than that? Not really. He used to be tasked with getting the fire set up but Zuko had taken that one up easily. 

He didn’t like the time it gave him to think. His thoughts were always torn between two things. The failed invasion and all that it entails or the presence of this stranger with a too familiar face. The more Zuko reminded him of Ba Sing Se, like pouring them all tea for dinner, blushing bright red when Katara actually complimented it, or that nose scrunch he gets when focusing on helping Aang, the more Sokka gets angry. 

When a week finally passes, when all the little things have added up like tallies against him, it’s no surprise he feels moments away from combusting. The lack of contact between them, something he’s taken to being grateful for, feels like a slap in the face now. They hardly take care in not mentioning the other, careful to avoid being caught looking, and it’s a barrier that Sokka hates as much as he hates the other boy.

So, finally sick and tired of this buzzing energy beneath his flesh and a lack of any other way to get it out, he digs through his things until he finds them. Two swords that aren’t too sharp. Perfect for sparring. 

He remembers the way Zuko had used his own blades before. Remembers how he talked about the way this came easier to him than bending ever did. He just hopes Zuko hasn’t gotten rusty. 

He stomps over to the scarred boy in question and throws the sheathed sword to his feet. “You and me, one on one, no bending. Get up.”

Zuko looks up, mouth moving silently, before he closes it and just pulls himself to his feet. “Alright.”

The others look on warily. It’s only Katara that speaks, though. “Call if you need us.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, just walks till he finds an area that’ll work for a sparring area. “You remember how to do this?”

Zuko nods, lowering himself into a stance. “Yeah.”

“If you hold back, I’ll have Katara make you into kabobs.” Sokka threatens, knowing full well his sister truly would if that’s what he wanted. She might’ve grown less harsh with the boy but that meant nothing if he angered her brother or upset him in any way. Again. 

“And if you hold back?” Zuko counters. 

Sokka just grins. “I won’t be.”

* * *

When he finally, finally manages to pin down the sneaky little bastard, it’s an achievement that has him smiling maniacally as he keeps the tip of his blade at Zuko’s throat. “Do you yield?”

Zuko’s as out of breath as he is, his chest heaving heavily. He holds up his hands in defeat, his sword kicked too far away. “I yield.”

He almost helps him to his feet but thinks better of it. Instead, he leans back and wipes the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his shirt. That feeling under his skin is still there but it’s subdued for now. Apparently all it took was exhausting his body and beating a prince. It wasn’t with his bare hands, as he might have considered more than once, but this’ll have to do. 

“Could you always fight like that?” Zuko pants, propping himself up by his elbows. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Sokka begins, leveling him with a look. “But I found a master and have been trying to keep a routine practice schedule.”

“Well, you thoroughly kicked my ass. So I’d say you’ve been doing good. Really good, actually.” He tries with a smile but it falls quickly when Sokka gives him nothing in return. “Sokka.”

And oh, that tone just has him revolting already. He hates it. Hates how it sounds like he’s about to be reprimanded when he’s in the clear between the two. Like he’s the childish one. “What?” He bites out. 

He’s quiet for too long, taking that time to stand up and dust himself off. “I’m… Tell me what to do here. I know I fucked up. I did. And you have every right to be angry with me! To hold that against me! But I can’t… tell me what to do so we don’t suffocate each other. Because we will at this rate.”

“Well,” Sokka drawls out, swallowing thickly. He goes over the words in his mind, marinating in them until he’s gotten a good sense of them, and he finds he hates what’s there. He hates what isn’t. “You can actually start with an apology.”

“I’m sorry.” He follows immediately. 

Sokka just shakes his head. “No. A real one. One that doesn’t have to be prompted.”

“I thought…” Zuko huffs before cutting himself off. 

Sokka, though, he hears it. Can already taste the unsaid words. And he chases after them with a vengeance. “Thought what? What did you  _ think _ , Zuko? Because I’ve always had issues figuring that out myself.”

“I thought this would’ve shown that I’m sorry! That I understand I made a mistake! I ruined everything I had and now I’m desperately trying to make things right! So please, Sokka!” He pleads, voice cracking. “Help me make this right. Or at least help me do right by you. All of you.”

His first instinct is to shout that there is nothing he can do. To take away such a childish hope. But then he reconsiders and he knows how cruel that would be. He isn’t cruel. Or, he tries not to be. So he considers it. “You said you knew where Suki was being held. Do you think they took anyone else there after the invasion?”

“It’s the most secure prison facility for the most important people. There should be some.” He answers, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. 

“Then help me get them. You want to make things right by us? By me? You help get them out.” Sokka offers his hand tentatively, trying not to imagine the many, many ways this can go sideways. 

Zuko takes his hand like it’s something precious and he ignores the flip flop feeling in his stomach as they shake on it. He can do this. He can rescue Suki, his father from the sounds of it, and maybe even Bato. He can do this. 

The boy in front of him catches his eyes, so hesitant yet so determined. For some reason, that brings Sokka comfort. They can do this. Zuko’s a lot of things, a fighter being one of them. He’ll fight to make this right and that’s all he can ask for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sokka and Katara are big mad. Sokka makes sense but I feel like I need to defend Katara’s anger? Mainly cause they didn’t have that moment. But he and Sokka did and Katara is super protective of her loved ones. We know this. And she already didn’t like Zuko. So, uh, hopefully that explains it better if anyone is confused at her anger? I didn’t mean to bump her up to 11 but whoops. 
> 
> (To be fair, I would be her in this situation. So I get it lol)
> 
> I’d like to say the next update won’t be in a month but uh. We’ll see. I’m excited about the next chapter though and it’s halfway done so fingers crossed I finish it fairly quickly.


	14. finding truth beneath your skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boiling Rock but gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a monster of the chapter and it’s much sooner than expected. It’s double the usually length of my chapters but I figured it flowed well enough together so I couldn’t cut it in half. So uh. Surprise. Happy Total Elimination of Nuclear Weapons day? (Yes that’s a thing. Aren’t I full of surprises?)

Sokka worries the cuticles of his thumb, staring at the sky bison with possibles racing through his mind. He’d mentioned taking Appa with them but Zuko, the jerk, had shot that down immediately. Apparently the intensity of the heat would be too much for the fur covered creature. 

Speaking of heat, they needed a way to get across the boiling waters around the, well, Boiling Rock. Apt name, it seems. It’d be easier if they could just fly across but, well, that didn’t seem very likely. 

The current plan they have is feeble at best, reckless at worst, but it’s the only one they’ve got. And that’s to go to a town with a port and try to find a sturdy enough boat to rent with the money Zuko had brought with him. It’d take maybe a day until they finally reached the prison but he hoped the prince, who’d previously lived on a boat, would be able to get them there as quickly as possible. 

His only concern now was how to tell the others about the trip. He’d debated telling them some lame story about a fishing trip but thought better of it. Toph would see through that easily. He just had to find a way to break it to Katara now. 

Blurting it out hadn’t been his intended method but sometimes things happen. “Zuko and I are gonna be gone for a while.”

She whips her head around, the water she’d been pulling from their clothes falling back into the bucket. “What? Why? How long?”

“We’re heading out sometime tomorrow. He says he knows where Suki is,” He thinks about mentioning their dad and Bato but hesitates, not wanting to disappoint her if it doesn’t work out that way. “We shouldn’t be gone longer than a week.”

“A week?!” She gasps and he knows her well enough to know the tirade she’s about to begin. “Absolutely not! I don’t trust it! For all we know, this can be an elaborate scheme to dispose of you! Or he could be lying! Besides, what about Aang? He just started learning firebending!”

Taking a long, deep breath, Sokka grabs hold of his sister’s shoulders. “I know what I’m doing, I’ll be okay. And you don’t have to trust him but please trust me. I have to do this, Katara.”

She must see the resolve in his eyes because she doesn’t argue against it. “Fine. One week. If you’re not back by then, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

“Despite your inability to track, I’ll take your word for it.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering the lessons that she never seemed to retain. Sure, she was decent at catching the fish, but that was the extent of her hunting prowess. 

She rushes forward, embracing him with a strength that has him choking at first. “Please don’t get yourself killed.”

“I’ll try not to,” He wheezes, patting her back. He really hopes he can keep such a promise. But he can’t afford to not be realistic for where they’re going. 

* * *

When Aang lowers Appa to the forest floor, his nerves hit him at full force. Because it occurs to him, truly occurs to him, how stupid this plan of theirs is. He’s been telling himself it’s ridiculous if not ingenious but no. No, it’s just completely stupid and their going to fail before they even start. 

Something will go wrong and it’ll send this whole thing crumbling down. Someone will recognize one of them and refuse service. The ship will sink before they even make it. They’ll finally kill each other on the way. Or, they get recognized in the prison and then they’ll be stuck there. Maybe even die there. 

“Are you alright?” Aang worries, looking back at him over his shoulder. “We can go back if you want.”

But he can’t. Not after worrying everyone and planning this entire thing. Not with Zuko already on the ground and waiting for him with a patience that he’s slowly adjusting to. “No, I’m alright. Just getting ready. Be careful getting back to camp.”

Aang smiles brightly and nods. “I will! You two be safe.”

“Don’t forget your breathing practices! Katara has instructions for the next week so go over them with her!” Zuko calls out as Sokka carefully climbs out of the saddle. 

Aang’s smile falters but it doesn’t leave his face for too long. “You got it, Sifu Hotman!”

The expression Zuko pulls is one that helps alleviate his nerves, just a little bit. He saves Aang the now familiar lecture about outdated slang and pulls the other boy along. And he’s careful to watch the sky as Appa flies back to the temples, sighing once they’re finally out of sight. 

The trek to the village isn’t too bad and the sun is still up despite their late start. And the range of ships to choose from hasn’t changed any from their first look over the town. Overall, things seem to be going well. They continue to do so even as they rent a small cutter boat with Sokka lying through his teeth. 

“We’ll be back by the end of the night.” He promises the man, forking over the amount of coins they’d finally agreed on. 

The man doesn’t even bother to acknowledge them after that, counting his coins with a grin. They take it as a good sign and board the ship, the first step being ticked off in his head as a job well done. He only hopes it continues to keep going this smoothly. 

* * *

It’s well into an hour before the silence breaks between them. In fact, it’s probably well into quite a few hours. But Sokka’s been left with nothing to look at but the sea, the boat, and the dark haired teen. Every accidental glance in the wrong direction has him spiraling and he’s certain this isn’t healthy for his sanity. Certain that this isn’t healthy for anyone’s sanity, really. 

It’s that line of thinking that prompts him to actually break the stifling silence. “How’d you do this for like a year straight? I’m already losing it.”

Zuko glances at him from the corner of his good eye and shrugs. “Well, I didn’t have to constantly check on the sails. Plus, I had people who ran it for me. But it was longer than a year.”

“What do you mean? Aang didn’t pop out of the iceberg until recently.” He snorts. They might’ve gotten side tracked many, many times but he has a decent sense of time. At least a better one than Zuko. 

“I uh,” He pauses, wetting his lips as he looks away. “I was at sea for over three years.”

His brain comes to a halt and any mocking amusement he’d felt before fades instantly. He does the mental math easily and he doesn’t like the picture it paints. Not at all. “That’s insane.”

It startles a smile out of the prince which he adds to that old tally board in his head. “Maybe. But I was under orders so…”

“Still insane, dude.” He shakes his head, chalking this one up to yet another oddity of the Fire Nation. Or maybe just it’s royal family. 

“Still insane.” Zuko finally concedes with a laugh that has his staring. 

He forces himself to look away, mouth dry, and checks on the sails. “At least Iroh was with you.”

It’s too late to realize his misstep but he’s oddly glad it makes that smile, the one that’s starting to hurt his chest when he looks on for too long, dim some. “Yeah, I am. I owe a lot to him.”

“No shit.” Sokka tightens the rope as the wind gets stronger. And when he finally realizes the air is getting a little warmer, he glances back at Zuko. 

He seems to get the message and his eyebrows furrow with concentration. “We’re getting closer.”

He gulps and nods. Tries to prepare himself for what they’re about to do, what they’re about to accomplish. There are words on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say but he hesitates when he considers the rest of the ride. So he holds them, at least for the meantime. He relies on Zuko to point him the right direction and he feels the dread in his stomach build the closer they get. 

They can hardly see passed the steam from the water when they finally reach the island. It’s suffocatingly hot and they have to wipe the sweat from their brow every few minutes. In short, it’s the worst and Sokka would hate the Fire Nation for having places like this alone. It’s just the icing on top for his growing list, though. 

* * *

  
The armor weighs him down in every sense and he hates how it feels against his skin. It isn’t like the stolen uniforms they’d worn for months. This prison guard uniform is thicker, heavier, and more reminiscent of the armor Zuko once wore. He hates it and has to actively resist peeling it off his flesh every chance he gets. 

He sucks it up for now. And he plays his part of lookout, protecting the other teen currently rummaging through official scrolls and lists just passed the door. It’s only been half a day of them fulfilling these roles of guards and he cannot stress just how much he hates it. Hates it even more than those weeks they’d pretended to be Fire Nation while Aang recovered. 

Fortunately enough for them, it seemed the staff on the prison was regularly on rotation, so two new guards were nothing to blink at. Considering what he’s seen of this place so far, that isn’t so surprising. Anyone who didn’t request an immediate transfer was probably the type to get a kick out of abusing their power, which never bodes well for anyone. 

The soft two knocks against the door brings him out of the shitty quality of life on the Boiling Rock. He glances at either side of the hall, even taking a moment to listen closely, before he slowly opens up the office door. “So?”

Zuko’s wary expression is a bad sign and it has his bad mood only worsening. “Suki really is here but that’s all. For now, at least. In another few days, there’ll be a new shipment of prisoners coming in.”

Well, it’s not the completely awful news Sokka had expected. In fact, it’s _good_ news. “Did it say anything about the people coming in?”

“Just that they were war prisoners,” He answers with an increasingly deepening frown. “Do you want to wait for them?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate to answer, no question in his mind. He has to do at least that. Especially if it’s someone he knows. Especially if it’s his dad. 

Zuko nods, looking awfully determined and he’s glad for that. Relieved, even. “Then we wait.”

* * *

The next step, outside of waiting, is getting Suki in on their plan. The issue, they find quite quickly, is that the girl is constantly on edge. She snarls and bares her teeth at anyone who dares to even look at her, looking more warrior than human. 

She’s terrifying in her ferociousness and by the spirits, does Sokka love that girl. Like a sister, obviously. And woah, how hadn’t he realized sooner the similarities she shared with his actual blood-sister? Or is it just the fact that girls in general are scary? 

Maybe it’s just the girls he knows. But then he considers the girls that Zuko might know, specifically his sister and her equally crazy friends, and reconsiders that. No, all girls are scary. 

“You stand watch,” He tells Zuko, quickly making his way to Suki’s cell. It’s his last resort. 

Zuko makes a series of noises that can’t possibly be human before he grabs hold of Sokka’s arm. It tingles where he holds it and Sokka does the mature thing by ripping himself away. “What exactly are you planning?”

“To talk to her, duh.” He rolls his eyes, turning on his heels to continue his pursuit. 

Zuko stops him again. “How? By cornering her in her cell?!”

“Yes!” He answers, quickly fed up by whatever it is the prince is playing at. “Look, I’ll show her it’s me and then it’ll be fine.”

“You’ll give her a heart attack before she even realizes it’s you!” Zuko snaps at him and it’s the first time he ever truly has. 

Arguing is one thing but this feels different. This feels like it’s Sokka in the wrong. “What do you suggest then?!”

“Not barging into a female prisoner's cell dressed as a prison guard!” He exclaims, eyes wide and wild like he’s surprised he even has to explain that. 

Which, yeah, Sokka hadn’t considered that before. Not one bit. He instantly feels guilty for that fact and sighs. “Fuck, what are we gonna do?”

Zuko’s quiet for a minute before he pinches the bridge of his nose and deeply sighs. “Take off your armor.”

“What?” He asks sharply. 

“Your armor. She’ll realize you aren’t a guard this way and she won’t kill you immediately.” He slowly explains, looking at him expectedly. 

Realizing he’s expected to strip right then and there has his flushing brightly. Sure, he has basic underclothes on, but it’s the implications he resents. “Turn around.”

Zuko just rolls his eyes and does as told. “I’ll keep watch. Let me know when everything is sorted and I’ll slip the armor into the cell for you.”

“If she still kicks my ass, I’m kicking yours.” Sokka warns, cringing at the loud clanking of metal as his chest plate hits the floor. 

“If you do as I said, you won’t get your ass kicked.” He counters back easily, snickering to himself. 

Sokka just grumbles to himself, looking down at the dark grey underpants and tank top. He feels far too exposed but less like a threat. Fuck, Zuko had been right. “Asshole.”

Suki, it turns out, is more amused than anything at his state of undress. That’s only after she hugs him, though. And after he explains the plan to her. 

* * *

It turns out, their suspicions were right along, and it’s proven when the new prisoners arrive. One by one, they get off the gondola, and Sokka holds his breath the entire time. When two watertribe men step off, achingly familiar men, he feels like he can finally breathe. 

When his father leaves a lasting impression on the warden, he can’t help but be so insanely proud. His act of defiance is all Sokka needed to see to know the man is alright, mentally and physically. He’s alright. And by Bato’s smirk, he’d say the same for him. 

Everything has been going according to plan thus far and that’s something that’s been setting Sokka on edge. So of course, when he’s snuck into his father’s cell and explaining everything to him, do things go sideways. And his heart lodges in his throat as he’s forced to sit behind the door, unable to move for the time being. 

When he does finally creep out, he sees Zuko kicking flames at another soldier, the heat too close to comfort for Sokka. And when he’s told to help stop the imposter, he tries to be as gentle as he can without giving anything away. Zuko goes limp in his hold, the fight being sucked out of him, and it’s a worrying thought. 

“The plan hasn’t changed. We’ll leave here soon and you’re still coming back with us.” He says in a rushed whisper before pushing the other teen into an empty cell. 

Zuko just nods, fists clenched at his sides. The other guard throws a prisoner uniform at him. “The warden will be with you soon.”

Sokka doesn’t want to walk away. Doesn’t want to leave him there at their mercy, especially not when they discover who he is. And he plans to hurry up their time frame of escape. The quicker they leave this place, the better. 

* * *

He doesn’t see Zuko at all the next day and as reluctant as he is to admit it, it worries him immensely. He even goes so far as to ask around but no one has heard anything, not even the prisoners according to Suki. He hates how much that makes him worry even more. 

He figures it’s because the guy is actually making a conscious effort to be a decent human being now. He finally believes that Zuko really does want to repent for the past. Every action has shown that so far. 

For fucks sake, he helped Sokka break into a prison and helped him plan to break out of one. He doesn’t think anyone disingenuous would take it that far. He’s still cautious, certainly, but that doesn’t change the fact that he can at least acknowledge Zuko is _trying_. Even he doesn’t deserve to be abandoned in the Boiling Rock. 

Despite desperately wanting an answer for where the prince was, he regrets it when he gets it. He’s still in his cell and Sokka only just managed to sneak in to see him. To check on him. 

The blossoming bruise under his good eye and the smeared blood in the corner of his mouth does something funny to his blood. It has his head feeling light and his veins boiling. And just like that, he can imagine pummeling the warden with his bare hands. Can easily see himself taking retribution on any mark against Zuko’s skin. Because _how dare he lay a hand on his sou—_

“Sokka?” Zuko calls, his voice distant to his ears. 

It brings him back though. It calms the inferno building beneath his skin if only a little bit. “Hey there, stranger. How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be fine,” He says with a weak smile. “But the warden notified my father and found the boat. You’ll have to find a way out of here, quickly.”

“And what, leave you here? Fat chance, man.” He easily pushes the mere thought of that away. It’s a stark contrast to his thoughts just days ago but he can’t think too hard on that right now. Not with Zuko looking up at him like he’s afraid Sokka will disappear. 

The boat is another matter, though. He’s only slightly terrified about their only means off the island being destroyed. But there has to be another way. He’ll figure this out. He has to. He has so many people counting on him and he won’t fail them, not again. 

“I can’t convince you otherwise?” Zuko sighs, that small smile betraying his true feelings on the matter. 

“Not this time,” He shakes his head, trying for a small laugh but falling short. “My dad and Bato are in on it. We’ll try to find a way out. Maybe causing a distraction and slipping out unnoticed?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard with rowdy prisoners,” Zuko smirks, like he could ever be rowdy in his current state. 

“You mean stubborn with a martyr complex.” He corrects none so gently. 

“Is that supposed to describe you or me?” He quips, leaning his head back. It shows off the shiner coming in even better and Sokka has to remind himself that he can’t murder the warden. Not yet at least. 

Still, Zuko has a point, as loathe as he is to admit it. “AsshoIe,” He laughs, hands on hips. He’s about to ask about the bruises when they hear the footsteps. And it’s with a heavy heart that he tells him. “I’ve got to go.”

“Stay safe.” Zuko calls out, as if he isn’t the one in chains and bruised. 

Sokka sighs but nods his head. “I will be. You do what you can to stay safe too.”

Zuko doesn’t make any promises and he doesn’t blame him for that. Even if it weighs heavy on his chest. Sokka debates sending the spirits a prayer about it but thinks otherwise, thinks it might be a step too far. If he sends a thought up to Yue though, then that’s no one's business but his own. 

* * *

It doesn’t take long for word to break out across the prison. The Traitorous Prince Zuko, they call him. The war criminals, the ones that hold no love of the Fire Nation, speak of him like fun new gossip. But the fanatics, the criminals that are justifiably there from what Sokka has seen and heard, they speak his name like it’s a curse from the spirits. They speak it like so many speak of the Fire Lord, ironically enough. 

Zuko keeps his head held high like the prince he is. The prince that Sokka so often forgets he is behind just name and title. It’s a side he hasn’t seen much of. After all, he had no reason to see it in Ba Sing Se, not when he’d been the furthest thing from a prince. It’s… interesting. 

The amount of time it takes an inmate to approach him is worryingly small. His green eyes and the way he says Fire Nation like it’s a disease tells Sokka all he needs to know about him. Specifically that he’s _not_ from the Fire Nation. 

“Not so tough without riding Daddy’s coattails, huh?” He grins with malice and teeth that seem to be rotting inside his mouth. 

Zuko ignores him until he no longer can. He’s forced to retrain the man, keeping him as far away as he can. The man thrashes and hollers, gaining everyone’s attention. Prisoners surround them, encouraging the fight and yelling at one of the two to land heavy handed hits. 

Sokka watches in awe as Zuko pins the man down with an agility he’s almost envious of. Even when the man bucks him off, tries throwing the boy over his shoulder, Zuko remains where he is. He ducks under reaching hands, sliding on the floor between the man’s legs, and kicks the back of his knee to have him fall. 

With a man of that size, Sokka’s not surprised by the loud thud he makes when he falls. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, he remembers his dad always telling him. But he’s forced to move, to no longer enjoy the show, when another officer comes upon the scene. 

“Settle down!” Sokka hollers, looking over the prince just in case. He’s fine for the most part. No new injuries, fortunately. 

Zuko just watches him and Sokka hates that he can’t quite read his expression. The other guard stalks over to them, faceplate lifted to show her ugly sneer. “What’s going on here?”

“Your prince is as much as a savage as the rest of you people are,” The man spits at the woman’s feet. His face lights up when she only grows angrier. 

“Guard!” She calls and Sokka looks her way. “Take this one to solitary confinement. I’ll take our honored guest to the cooler.”

Zuko’s gaze snaps up and Sokka... his chest caves in at the pleading look. He digs his nails into his palm, seeking anything that’ll distract him from the scarred teen, but his hands are gloved and it doesn’t accomplish much. So, he takes the man and escorts him away, keeping his hold strong and steady even as the man keeps thrashing in his hold. 

* * *

  
“Hope you, uh, hope you three are keeping the floor clean!” Sokka exclaims in lieu of greeting, mindful of the guard walking past them. 

Bato just shakes his head. “You’re about as subtle as your father, kid.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. So, thank you very much!” Sokka rolls his eyes, ditching his faceplate once they’re in the clear. 

“About as funny as him, too.” Suki snorts, leaning on the handle of her mop. 

Hakoda just shakes his head. “Not appreciated in our time, son.”

Bato and Suki turn to each other with a look that Sokka resents immensely. They both start cackling and he realizes the horror he’s committed. He made the mistake of introducing Bato to Suki and how hadn’t he seen the mistake in that before? Oh spirits, he’s sorry to the human kind if this is how they’re going to be. 

Then he remembers Zuko being carted off and his brief, pleading look. He becomes solemn quite quickly and it must show on his face because the three of them grow quiet. “We have an issue.”

“What’s going on?” Hakoda’s the one to ask, looking about as concerned as Sokka feels. 

“A number of things,” He begins with a deep sigh, the amount of things wrong finally catching up to him. “Zuko’s in the cooler for one. Secondly, our ride out of here was found and disposed of. And thirdly, the Fire Lord has been notified about Zuko’s presence. We have to get going and soon. I don’t want to stick around when the Fire Lord’s men get here.”

“Well, shit.” Bato frowns, taking a step back. 

Suki nods in agreement before putting her hands on her hips. He swears he can see a flash of warrior paint over her face if he looks closely enough. “Shit is right. But Zuko will be released soon. I don’t know if he’ll exactly be in fighting condition but there’s enough of us for him to be helped. We just have to find a way out once he is.”

“There’s only one way out. A very heavily guarded way out.” Sokka reminds them, mind racing to figure this out. 

“The original plan was to cause a distraction. Cause one big enough and it might not be so guarded.” Hakoda points out. 

And that… that might work. “Rowdy prisoners,” He mumbles to himself, remembering what Zuko had suggested before. “A prison riot.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Bato grins, the excitement reflected in his eyes. 

“Alright, okay,” Sokka takes a deep breath, forcing his thoughts to slow down enough to get a firmer grasp of the plan forming in his head. “Dad, you’re in charge of getting the riot going tomorrow. Bato, your job is getting him out of it and meeting up with us at the gondola. Suki, you begin clearing the way for us ahead of time. And I’ll get Zuko once he’s out of the cooler. Good?”

“Good.” They all agree. 

The sound of footsteps, heavy metal ones, forces him to put his faceplate back into place. “Now finish up and get some rest for the night.”

By the time another guard reaches their floor, Sokka’s standing in the corner opposite from them. He isn’t quite so happy at how easily he plays a Fire Nation soldier now but since it’s helping in the long run, he’ll make due. Especially if it pays off. 

* * *

The first thing he wanted to do that morning was get Zuko out of the cooler. But that didn’t seem to be the plan as the warden had summoned all the guards to announce the upcoming arrival of Princess Azula. He’d practically threatened them to behave and Sokka had tuned him out after two minutes of the man trying to be intimidating. 

According to the warden, she’d be there soon enough. He just hoped it was well after they escaped. Zuko might’ve said she was against the Fire Lord but Sokka refused to rely on that. He’d seen her do enough damage even as a double agent. 

When they were released, Sokka rushed to the cooler, easily tricking the guard in front of the door. Once the hallway was cleared, he opened the door, the rush of cold making him shiver. It's followed by the guilt that drops heavy in his stomach. Just looking at Zuko, shivering violently but still alive, he knows he should’ve come sooner. 

Then there’s a flame that escapes past his lips and oh. Sokka doesn’t think that’s normal. Or, he hasn’t seen any other firebender do that. Not the ones he’s released from the cooler these past few days, at least. When Zuko looks up, there’s a flash of panic that has him swallowing thickly. But then he recognizes Sokka and the smile, no matter how small or weak, is one that is blinding. 

“You ready to get outta here?” Sokka questions softly, reaching out his hand. 

Zuko stares at it for a minute before nodding, grasping his hand with freezing fingers and pulling himself up. “We need to hurry. The warden said Azula was coming.”

“He saw you?” Sokka asks, frowning at the thought. 

“Yeah. He mainly just stood there and tried to be intimidating. It didn’t work,” Zuko shakes his head with a tightness around his eyes. “But the warm air was a relief so it wasn’t too bad a visit.” He tries with a soft laugh. 

Sokka shuts the cooler door and begins to guide him to the courtyard. He keeps glancing at the prince from the corner of his eyes, trying to find anything out of place. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Besides making the cooler even colder after he left? No. I’m alright.” Zuko promises and even though Sokka doesn’t trust it completely, he lets it go for now. 

“Then I expect you to keep up,” He teases lightly, picking up the pace. And then they hear a flood of soldiers walking down the hall they’re about to join. Quickly, Sokka backs up, bringing Zuko with him. “What on earth do they need with that many people?”

“Usually formality. I think Azula’s here.” Zuko tells him, swallowing thickly. 

Sokka curses under his breath, knowing how much more difficult this is about to be. But they can do this. They can. “Likelihood of her helping us?”

“Maybe thirty percent. I don’t think any of us will die, though.” He figures optimistically. 

And, well. That’s at least something. “We’ve escaped worse odds.”

“You’re right,” Zuko nods and Sokka can actually see the determination grow in his eyes, the fight being sparked just like that. “We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this,” Sokka repeats back absentmindedly, staring at the other boy. He shakes himself and realizes they’re in the clear with no one around. “Come on.”

* * *

“This isn’t how I wanted to become an only child, Zuzu!” The princess with blue fire surrounding her calls out. 

“Never my intention either, believe me!” He hollers back, twisting in the air with that grace only he could pull off. Well, he and his sister. 

“I mean, honestly, it’s barely been two weeks and you’re already in prison!” She cackles, electricity sparking near her and casting an unpleasant shadow over her face. 

Sokka doesn’t like it. He can tell Zuko’s pulling his punches but he’s fairly certain Azula isn’t. And he can’t afford to help him either at the moment. He and Suki make good work of the guards but they keep coming. Bato was at least able to get the gondola ready. They just have to get there now. 

“Dad!” He calls, cursing the spirits when he realizes he’s fighting the warden. “Get the guy handled and come on!”

There’s an opening, a small one, and he takes it. Suki follows his lead and together, they make it to the gondola. Hakoda and Zuko notice and they both handle their fights. By that, Zuko just barely scrambles away from his sister. His dad? Well, Hakoda seems to think that _handling the guy_ means bringing him with them. 

“Release me at once! Never in my years have I ever seen such disobe—” He looks around the gondola, eyes stopping on the scarred teen. He looks far too pleased if someone were to ask Sokka. “Oh, well, it makes sense that you’re behind this Prince Zuko. After all, you wear the face of disobedience.”

There’s a niggling feeling pressed against the back of his throat. One that Sokka pointedly doesn’t pay any attention to but promises to later. When they’re safe and off this island. 

Zuko just shakes his head, hefting the warden up as he glances to the platform. It’s only a few feet away and they can see them parting for Azula, all fearful of her narrowed eyes. “Get them before they reach my ship!”

“She’s got a way off the island,” Sokka gasps. 

“A way that she’s probably got guarded. We’ll be ambushed before we even get inside it.” Suki gently adds, slouching against the wall. 

“No,” Zuko interjects. “We’ll get there before anyone else can. She just told us a way out.” 

“Thirty percent chance.” Sokka laughs, feeling like he’s dreaming. Sure, Zuko told him Azula wasn’t exactly on the side they thought she was but now he’s finally realizing it. 

“What are you talking abo-?!” The warden ends there, Hakoda standing over him with the pipe he’d fought with to get here. 

“I figured he’d be easier to handle like this.” He points out, his logic not entirely false. 

“Probably for the best. At least they won’t shoot us down with him inside too.” Bato snorts though he still cuffs his chief over the back of his head. 

“And he can’t overhear either.” Suki adds, glancing back at the princess below. 

Well, none of them are wrong enough for Sokka to argue. So for now, he leaves it, and focuses on getting across. They use the few minutes of peace to catch their breath and regulate their racing hearts. 

When the gondola finally does reach the other side, they find an airship ready to go. They also find two girls waiting in front of it. Sokka, not knowing how to handle Azula’s friends, turns to Zuko and gives him the reins in this situation. 

It turns out he hadn’t needed to. Ty Lee, if he remembers right, just skips over to them and throws herself at Zuko. The teen, for his part, catches her easily but looks mighty uncomfortable in the one-sided hug. It’s an odd enough sight that Sokka can’t help but chuckle at. 

“Oh Zuko! It’s so good to see you! And you seem so much happier now! I’m glad you and your fated came together again!” She gushes, her smile so incredibly big that Sokka wonders if he should be worried. 

“Ty Lee!” He exclaims, his pale skin flushing a pretty pink. He finally pulls away from the girl and doesn’t even flinch at her pout. “Look, it’s good to see you too, but we have to go.”

“Oh, right!” Just like that, any trace of being upset is gone. “The ships cleared out already. Azula figured you didn’t have a plan and made this one in case.”

“We had a plan,” Sokka can’t help but mumble, stepping forward. Ty Lee levels him with a look that he flushes at and suddenly Zuko’s blush doesn’t seem quite so funny. 

The girl’s opposite, Mai, his brain reminds him, opens the hatch for them. “You’ll have to find a new place to camp. There’s trackers in all of these. But you should have enough time to do that. Just don’t doddle and you’ll be good.”

Zuko’s the first one on board but he pauses to look back at the gothic girl. “Your uncles on the gondola. Sorry about that.”

“Eh. He probably deserved it. He’s a dick.” She shrugs. “Take care of yourself, Zuko.”

“You too, Mai.” He returns, ushering the rest of them onto the airship. 

Sokka’s the last one on and he spares a wary glance at Mai before he turns his attention to the ship. It’s unnecessarily large, at least it is for just the five of them. But it’ll get them to the temples a lot quicker and he’s thankful for that. He’s ready to be back with the others. 

* * *

It’s late. He hadn’t realized how late it was until the sky was already dark and he wonders just where exactly the day went. Everything seemed to happen so quickly during the escape that he’s surprised to realize just how long it actually took them. 

He should probably follow Suki and Bato’s lead, to go catch some sleep before they reach the temples, but he can’t get his mind calm enough to do that. His dad even took up controlling the ship so he can’t distract himself like that anymore either. 

So when he stumbles upon Zuko, staring up at the sky in the moonlight, it’s a welcome distraction. And it reminds him of the small things he’s slowly been adding together, a question too heavy to ask on the tip of his tongue. 

Instead, he takes a spot next to him and makes himself comfortable against the wall. “So…”

Zuko startles, only slightly, and looks over to him. The silence is heavy between them but he doesn’t break it, not at first. He just keeps his eyes on Sokka before sighing and looking away. “Just say whatever it is.”

He has a moment where he tries to deny it but when Zuko looks less than convinced, he drops the act. “How do you even know there’s something wanna say?”

Those golden eyes flicker back to him and they’re… pained. That’s all Sokka can come up with for what he sees in them. “Because I know you, Sokka.”

He remembers those days with his chest feeling hollowed out. The days where everyone kept checking on him when the Avatar laid comatose a few rooms over. He still felt remnants of that hollowness even now. He looks away. “But I don’t know you. Not really.”

“You and uncle know me better than I know myself.” He argues softly but Sokka knows he’s right in this. 

He gulps and resigns to face this head on. He always has to when it comes to Zuko. “How’d you get your scar?”

“What?” He asks breathlessly, as if those five words had knocked the air from his lungs. “Why—”

“I used to think it was training. Something stupid, you know? And I thought about asking before. Back in Ba Sing Se. But it never felt like an appropriate time and things fell apart.” He tries to explain himself. “You say things, worrying things, and I’ve always brushed them off. Figured that’s what the Fire Nation is like. But that was wrong of me and maybe I just didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to put the pieces together to see the truth that it made. I know now with certainty that it wasn’t a training accident. I don’t think it was an accident at all. What happened?”

Zuko goes back to looking at the sky and he stays quiet for a long time. Long enough that Sokka worries he’s pushed too far and is beginning to feel shame creep up on him. And when he does speak, his voice sounds wrecked in a way that Sokka feels in his bones. “It was an Agni Kai. I spoke up during a war council, said they shouldn’t sacrifice a division senselessly. And it was a show of disrespect. A show of disobedience.”

His stomach feels like lead and he regrets asking. Regrets pushing this. Even if it was selfish to keep living in ignorance, he wishes he could. If only so this wasn’t real. If this wasn’t the truth that was painted. But he forces himself to listen, his eyes locked onto the scar that has defined so much of them both. 

“I… I had thought it was the general I had to fight. It was his plan I criticized so it made sense to me. But we were in the Fire Lord’s council room. And it was a plan of action he’d already approved,” He takes a long, deep breath and he does what he did when he’d first joined them. He tries to shrink within himself and this time, it breaks Sokka’s heart. Or what’s left of it. “I was supposed to fight my father. But I refused to even stand. He saw this as a lack of honor and he… he left the scar as punishment and banished me.”

Sokka can feel his chest heave and the burning in his eyes but that’s all. His mind feels like cotton and he can hardly even form thoughts, let alone words. The strength it takes to do so is strength he hadn’t known he had. “You said you’d been at sea for three years. Is that why?”

“Yes. The only way I could return to the Fire Nation was to capture the Avatar and only then would my honor be restored.” He chuckles lowly, shaking his head. “It was bullshit but it was all I had. I know better now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He can’t help but ask. “All this time… I figured you were some selfish prince but that wasn’t true. Not entirely. I can’t believe I never saw that. Never noticed. I just assumed you were some angry jerk and fuck, I hated you at first. You know that? I thought you were a conceited asshole who… who cursed me with the soulmarks or something. Spirits, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I was so selfish and I’m so sorry your dad is the fucking worst. And I’m so sorry you ever had to go through that. You were… holy shit, you were younger than Aang. Zuko, I’m so sor—”

There are soft hands on his face and gentle if chapped lips against his. He tastes jasmine and it calms him, slowing his thoughts until they move like molasses. There’s a moment where he thinks of pushing away but he can’t find it within himself to do so. So he does the next best thing and holds on tight, reminds himself that this is real, that Zuko is alright right now. He’s safe now. 

When he feels like he’s not going to ramble on anymore, Zuko pulls away. Rests his forehead against his with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I needed you to calm down but I know you’re not…”

“It’s alright,” He mumbles, forcing himself to let go when the prince pulls away. 

“Now that you’re breathing again,” He teases but Sokka would disagree with that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever breathe again. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was everything you thought I was. But I’ve changed. And I’ll probably continue to change. I’m not perfect, I never was. Everything I’ve done, all the people I’ve hurt, that was me. I refuse to pretend that was my father. But I’m trying to move forward. To fix what I’ve done.”

It’s a familiar statement but this time it feels more concrete. Maybe that’s just because Zuko is more certain with himself now. And spirits, it’s a good look on him. The lack of oxygen is the only reason he says what he says, he tells himself. “I like who you’ve become.”

Zuko snickers even as he blushes. “Well, you played a part in who I am today, so thanks goes to you for that.”

Sokka stays where he is, even if it’s a challenge, and he looks off to where Zuko’s looking. Hopes it’ll provide him the distraction he needs. And yeah, looking up at the moon serves as one. He remembers what Yue had said what felt like a lifetime ago. “You’re looking at my first girlfriend.”

It’s almost impressive that Zuko only tilts his head, looking closer out the window. “I’m sorry, what?”

“She turned into the moon,” He gestures. “Oddly enough, she always liked you.”

He slowly nods and Sokka tries not to laugh, keeping his expression deadpan. “Right. The moon likes me.”

“Well,” He drawls out. “Your soulmate’s ex girlfriend, the moon, likes you.”

“The moon likes me.” Zuko just repeats before bursting into laughter, unable to say it with a straight face. Sokka finally joins him, fully realizing the incredulous situation. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudo if ya liked it or comment cause I live off that shit. You know the drill.


End file.
